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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26549617">Aquarius</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kablob/pseuds/Kablob'>Kablob</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylordshesacactus/pseuds/mylordshesacactus'>mylordshesacactus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coping Mechanisms, Framing Story, Gen, Kidnapping, Non-Linear Narrative, Panic Attacks, Pyrrha Nikos Lives, References to Homer's Odyssey, Self-Hatred, Sleep Deprivation, Trauma, Trauma Recovery, body image issues, physical and psychological torture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:07:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>33,753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26549617</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kablob/pseuds/Kablob, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylordshesacactus/pseuds/mylordshesacactus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story of that huntress skilled in all ways of contending, the wanderer, harried for months on end, after she was plundered from the stronghold on the proud height of Beacon.</i><br/> </p><p>Blake Belladonna had never been more astonished than she was when she stumbled across her friend, Pyrrha Nikos, alive and travelling with two of the people responsible for Beacon's fall. But Pyrrha's tale proves to be even more astonishing than Blake could have imagined—a fantastic, painful, brutal tale of her determination to find her way home against incredible odds.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>222</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>263</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Nausicca</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ilia was still expecting this to be a mistake.</p><p>She was sitting at a cafe table on the Kuo Kuana docks, out in the open, and while the security was higher than normal it wasn’t actually because of her, despite it...being because of her. No one was watching her. No one cared what she was doing. She had, on her person, a very official pardon letter signed by Ghira Belladonna, who she had tried to <em> murder </em> just a few days ago. She was even <em> armed, </em>Lightning Lash’s handle rested comfortably at her hip. Trifa and Yuma hadn’t even trusted her with a weapon until she’d betrayed Blake directly. She didn’t deserve any of this, but she was the only one who seemed to understand that...</p><p>“You’re brooding again,” Blake chided, sipping at her drink—something called a Strawberry Sunrise that she’d acquired a taste for at Beacon.</p><p>“You’re one to talk,” Ilia muttered, and it was <em> weird— </em>they were teasing each other like they used to, catching a few minutes to lie and watch the stars through the canopy of the Forever Fall forest, before Adam would inevitably come along wondering where Blake had gone off to…</p><p>Like nothing had changed.</p><p>Well, not true. It was <em> way </em>hotter here than in Vale.</p><p>Blake’s voice was as dry as the sea air wasn’t. “If you need to be <em> ordered </em>to relax, I’m sure I can get my dad to make it a condition of—”</p><p>“I’m <em> relaxed,” </em> Ilia insisted, every muscle in her body tensing. At Blake’s flat look, she said defensively, “What? Maybe I’d be more relaxed if we were in the <em> shade.” </em></p><p>Blake’s sly half-smirk made something twist embarrassingly in Ilia’s gut. “You’ve been here for <em> how </em>long and you’re still not used to the heat?”</p><p>Ilia matched the smirk with one of her own. “Chameleons are cold-blooded, Blake. This much sun makes us overheat.”</p><p><em> “Chameleons </em> might be cold-blooded,” said Blake, visibly amused. “But <em> you’re </em>not.”</p><p>“Hey. You don’t know that.”</p><p>“Ilia, if you were cold-blooded you would have frozen to death in Mantle.”</p><p>Ilia took what she thought was a very dignified sip of whatever the hell drink was in this pineapple cup. It tasted vaguely like grapefruit? Blake had ordered it for her when she tried to avoid getting anything for herself.</p><p>“Mantle has a heating grid,” she retorted.</p><p>Rolling her eyes with a smile, Blake opened the table’s umbrella and angled it over Ilia’s head. “Better?”</p><p>“You saved my life,” Ilia deadpanned, and then tried to pretend she hadn’t just stabbed herself in the heart. She attempted to cover it up with an awkward cough. “So, uh...I guess we should get back to the training yard—”</p><p>“Ilia.”</p><p>Reflexively, Ilia sat up straighter.</p><p>“I <em> said </em>we’re taking an hour or two to unwind. I don’t want you overworking yourself.”</p><p><em> Do not turn pink, do </em> not <em> turn pink— </em> “It’s fine.” Ilia’s gaze dropped off to the side, and she gave a slight laugh. “Honestly? <em> Not </em> helping prepare for the Haven mission is stressing me out more than running around a little was.”</p><p>The look Blake fixed on her was firm; but her ears were pricked forward, soft and unthreatening. She set her drink down, and put a hand over Ilia’s. </p><p>“Hey. You don’t have anything to prove.”</p><p>“Of course I do,” Ilia said, but she couldn’t help smiling a little as she did so—Blake really did mean it. But most people <em> didn’t </em> trust Ilia yet—the Menagerie Guard especially, none of whom were thrilled with the idea of working with the girl who’d been running rings around them for months. Their commander, Saber Rodentia, held a particular distrust of her—though he’d begrudgingly thanked her for the report she’d given him on the Belladonna home’s security weaknesses.</p><p>They really <em> did </em> need better security, was the thing.</p><p>“You can prove it later, then,” Blake continued. “But you won’t help anyone by overworking yourself. Trust me. I’ve been there.”</p><p>“Really?” Ilia’s grin was accompanied by a flash of bright yellow on her skin. “You? <em> Blake Belladonna, </em> trying to subsist on nothing but raw passion and drive for—”</p><p>“I can <em> still </em>have you arrested.”</p><p>Ilia stuck out her tongue and took another long sip of her drink as she let her skin shift back to its natural brown. “There. See? I’m relaxing.”</p><p>Blake’s ears twitched smugly, but she squeezed Ilia’s hand and her expression was still...intent. Serious. “I mean it. I...felt like I had a responsibility, something to make up for. That I had to do this in order to prove that I deserved a second chance. And thankfully, there was someone there to say what I’m saying to you now. Driving yourself into the ground <em> won’t </em>help you or the people you care about. You’re no good to anyone if you drop dead of exhaustion before we even get there. And we don’t want to see you hurting in the meantime.”</p><p>Ilia...melted.</p><p>Metaphorically. Well, mostly metaphorically. It was really, <em> ridiculously </em>hot here.</p><p>“...You can’t just say things like that,” she managed after a moment, unable to keep from smiling as spots of bright red flared in her cheeks.</p><p>“You can’t stop me,” said Blake with a warm, soft smile. After a long moment, she finally looked away. Pulling out her scroll to glance at the time, she said, “Wasn’t Sun supposed to meet us...half an hour ago?”</p><p>In the distance, cutting above the background noise of the crowds, there was a loud, indistinct, very familiar shout.</p><p>“Oh hey,” said Ilia, as a palm tree shuddered and collapsed on the other side of a line of storefronts. “There he is.”</p><p>Blake sighed and knocked back the rest of her drink like a shot. “I guess we should go save him,” she said drily.</p><p>Ilia frowned as she got up to follow her. “Yeah…”</p><p>“Hey, don’t worry, it’s probably nothing. You haven’t known Sun for long but trust me, he’s <em> always </em>getting into trouble.”</p><p>From what she’d seen of Sun Wukong that sounded <em> entirely </em> believable, but… “It <em> could </em>be something, though.”</p><p>“If Adam had any supporters left in Kuo Kuana who <em> didn’t </em>take part in the coup, you would have told us.”</p><p>“Yeah, well,” Ilia muttered, “he didn’t tell me everything.”</p><p>The crowds had pulled back in the intersection that Sun was in, forcing Blake and Ilia to shoulder their way through the ring of people before they could see him. He stood in the center of the clearing, holding—</p><p><em> Someone </em> at gunpoint. </p><p>“Uh,” Ilia started, turning to Blake for guidance—only to find she’d drawn her gun too, ears pinned flat back against her hair and her earlier easygoing expression replaced with a vicious snarl.</p><p>“Oh.” The source of the commotion was a boy with short, steel-grey hair, who struck Ilia both as entirely nondescript and as looking kind of like an asshole. He didn’t look armed, but there was a sharp observance in his eyes as he glanced from Sun to Blake to Ilia that undercut his bored affection. “Great. You’re here too.”</p><p>“What,” Blake hissed, “are you <em> doing here.” </em></p><p>“Believe it or not, Belladonna, I was just passing through, minding my business when your <em> friend </em>here started freaking out on me.” The boy held his hands up, which he somehow managed to make condescending? Part of Ilia was almost impressed. “So if you could just call him off—you’re like, a princess or something here, right?”</p><p>“The <em> only </em> thing <em> I’m </em> calling,” Blake hissed, “is the <em> Guard. </em> And then <em> you’re </em>going to tell us why you’re here!”</p><p>“Just trying to find a boat <em> off </em> of here, actually. <em> Way </em>harder than you’d think, everyone’s on edge for some reason.”</p><p><em> “Bullshit,” </em>Sun snapped, with a vehemence that actually startled Ilia.</p><p>The boy huffed, like this was all just an annoyance. “Seriously, man. I’m just trying to get to Mistral—”</p><p>With a deceptively calm, focused rage, Blake audibly clicked the safety off on her pistol. “Oh, I just <em> bet you are.” </em></p><p>“Uh,” Ilia said again, <em> “Who </em> is this…?”</p><p>At that, the boy smirked in a way that reinforced Ilia’s initial impression of him as being kind of a dick. “Aw, you guys don’t talk about me? I’m heartbroken.”</p><p>“Shut <em> up,” </em>Sun growled. “Where’s your partner in crime? She was never very far from you back at Haven.”</p><p>The boy reached back, casually linking his hands behind his head. “What, am I not good enough for you?”</p><p>“Nah,” Sun said, “you kinda suck.”</p><p>“Guys.” Ilia let her hand drift back to her whip’s handle. “Seriously, what’s going on?”</p><p>Sun glanced quickly over at her before turning his attention back to the annoying boy. “Short version, this guy is friends with Adam.”</p><p>The boy rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t say <em> friends, </em> Wukong. Guy was kind of a dick. And like, that’s <em> me </em>saying that.”</p><p>“Ilia,” Blake said in that tone that made Ilia reflexively straighten her back. <em> “Knock him out.” </em></p><p>The boy lowered his hands. “What—”</p><p>Ilia might not have had the slightest clue what the hell was going on, but she didn’t have to be told twice. He hardly had time to react before Lightning Lash whipped around him, and with a startled yelp and crackle of electricity he fell to the ground, twitching.</p><p>“Thank you,” Blake said, lowering Gambol Shroud.</p><p>Ilia forced herself not to beam at the praise. “Anytime. But, uh...seriously, what just happened?”</p><p>Blake stepped into a more neutral stance, but kept Gambol pointed toward the unconscious young man with her finger over the trigger guard even as the Menagerie Guard finally appeared around a corner and closed in around the intruder—a little <em> late, </em>in Ilia’s opinion.</p><p>“Miss Belladonna?” The lead guard, a dingo-eared woman, looked about as confused as Ilia felt.</p><p>“Mercury Black,” Blake said flatly in response. “Part of the team responsible for the Fall of Beacon. Whatever he’s doing here? It’s bad.”</p><p>“Hey, yeah,” said Sun, turning to Ilia. “You don’t know anything about <em> those </em>creeps, do you? They were pretending to be Haven students. They’re all human, though, so I figured…”</p><p>Ilia shook her head silently. She’d been assigned to Menagerie for a long time, since right about after Blake deserted, and to her knowledge Adam had <em> never </em>worked with humans.</p><p>With...Mercury Black...finally cuffed, Blake lowered Gambol and shifted it back to katana form.</p><p>“If <em> he’s </em>here, Emerald won’t be far,” she said. She was looking at Sun and Ilia, but the comment was clearly directed to the Guard as well. “Be careful; we have reason to believe she has some kind of hallucinatory Semblance. I still have some of the Vytal Festival files on my scroll; I’m sending her profile out now, if we—”</p><p>
  <em> “Mercury!” </em>
</p><p>Ilia whipped around toward the source of the voice, and found two people farther down the street staring at them in shock, both of whom were <em> far </em> more distinctive than Mercury; a gorgeous and very concerned-looking girl with startlingly green hair, and a <em> strikingly </em>beautiful redhead in leather and bronze-gold armor that left her upper arms bare.</p><p>The redhead froze mid-stride, actually stumbling as her bright green eyes widened in a shocked blend of joy and pain that...Ilia couldn’t help but find familiar. The girl’s voice, when she spoke, trembled dangerously.</p><p>“...Blake?”</p><p>For a split second Blake’s breath caught; she looked stunned and overwhelmed in the same way she had when Ilia finally chose her side against the Albains. And then, nearly before Ilia had time to notice her expression at all, it slammed closed like a guillotine.</p><p>
  <em> “Bitch!” </em>
</p><p>Blake’s draw had been fast when facing Mercury; this time Ilia didn’t even see it. One moment Gambol was sheathed at her back; the next Blake had gotten off three shots at the green girl and dodged toward cover for another volley.</p><p>The gathered crowd scattered, obviously; both girls dropped and rolled with a Huntress’ reaction time, but their responses once they were on their feet again were very different. The green-haired girl—Emerald?—came up on her feet, hands raised, protesting, “Wait, I’m not—” The rest of her defense was interrupted by one of the guardsmen tackling her.</p><p>The redhead rolled only to one knee, raised both hands, and made a short, sharp gesture. Gambol, Lightning Lash, and Sun’s staff flew out of their hands and scattered in the sand as the girl got to her feet and charged Blake, who was already pulling Shroud from her back.</p><p>Ilia moved to intervene—but in the few seconds it took to cross the distance between them she realized something was off. The redhead had grabbed Blake by the wrists but wasn’t trying to leverage her grip into a throw or a hard restraint. She hadn’t made any move toward the mechanical spear on her back. And her words, fast and urgent, sounded...heartbroken.</p><p>“Blake,” she was pleading. “Please. I know how this must look but it’s <em> real, </em> it’s not—remember at Beacon, that afternoon when we talked about <em> The Shallow Sea? </em> You were so surprised I’d even <em> heard </em>of it.”</p><p>“I—” Blake blinked rapidly. <em> “What?” </em></p><p>She’d stopped struggling, so Ilia waited while the girl dropped Blake’s wrists and gently took Blake’s face between her hands.</p><p>“You know my Semblance because Ruby saw me use it in the forest,” the girl said, searching, desperate. “You told me you thought it was wise to be cautious about who I trusted with all of me. Your favorite noodle order is—”</p><p>“It’s really you,” Blake breathed. “How? How...we all thought you were <em> dead...” </em></p><p>The redhead swallowed heavily, opened her mouth, and burst into tears. Blake—and Ilia was stunned to find Blake’s face tearstained as well—dropped Gambol entirely to pull her close, a white-knuckled grip at the back of her neck, clinging tight to the stranger’s shoulders as she sobbed.  </p><hr/><p>Blake’s hands shook slightly as she placed a brimming cup of tea at Pyrrha’s place.</p><p>
  <em> Pyrrha. </em>
</p><p>Pyrrha, <em> alive, </em> in Kuo Kuana for some reason—travelling with Emerald and Mercury, apparently uncoerced—but she couldn’t even keep her mind on that track for more than a few seconds. <em> Pyrrha was alive. </em>She looked different, her armor and weapons were completely new designs, her hair had been cropped fairly short, but aside from that it was like seeing a ghost.</p><p>And something in Pyrrha’s eyes made Blake suspect she’d seen a few of her own since Beacon.</p><p>Blake hissed at a sudden pain in her hand; as she went to pour more tea, her trembling had sloshed scalding water over her knuckles.</p><p>Before she had a chance to react, her mother appeared at her shoulder, gently prying the teapot from her fingers.</p><p>“Sit down with your friends, dear,” she said gently. Then. “Well. <em> Friend? </em> Acquaintances...? Your friends and Mercury…?”</p><p>“That’s giving Em too much credit,” Mercury muttered from next to Pyrrha, where he was sitting cross-legged on a mat with his wrists handcuffed to his ankles, flanked by three armed guards. With all the security the room was a little crowded—they were using the informal family dining room for this, as the formal receiving area had, uh...smoke damage.</p><p>“Enemies…?” Mom mused cheerfully.</p><p>“Not anymore,” murmured Pyrrha, at the same time Mercury raised one hand as much as he could and wiggled it noncommittally. </p><p>Emerald, who was restrained exactly the same way Mercury was on Pyrrha’s other side with the added precaution of Ilia standing close behind her, muttered a quiet “thanks”.</p><p>Pyrrha sipped at her tea, and the taste brought a faint smile to her lips—Blake remembered how she liked it at Beacon. “Thank you for your hospitality, Your Grace,” she said, inclining her head respectfully to Dad across the table. “I hope we’re not imposing on you.”</p><p>Dad waved at her, clearly embarrassed. “Oh please, none of that. Any friend of Blake’s is always welcome in this home.” Blake shot him a mild, concerned look; she was pretty sure part of his wince was due to pain from the movement agitating his shoulder wound. Naturally, he pretended not to see it.</p><p>“I wish it were under...better circumstances,” Pyrrha said carefully. “We were hoping to make a quick transfer onto a ship to Mistral, but I understand there was...some kind of attack recently?” She glanced at one of the room’s columns, which had multiple visible bullet holes in the facade.</p><p>Blake cleared her throat. “White Fang members aligned with Adam Taurus tried to overthrow the government of Menagerie and assassinate my parents two days ago. We’ve temporarily stopped ships from leaving until we’re certain that there aren’t any more of his supporters at large.”</p><p>Talking about it in that detached way made it...easier.</p><p>“Great timing,” Mercury muttered. Pyrrha shot him a look before Sun, standing guard behind him, nudged him with his foot.</p><p>“You’re gonna get us <em> shot, </em> Merc,” Emerald muttered. She probably meant it to be inaudible, and it probably was to everyone but Blake, her mom, and two of the guards.</p><p>“Before we go any further,” Blake said, “I want to know <em> exactly </em>how your Semblance works, Emerald.”</p><p>Emerald cringed badly before looking to Pyrrha for guidance. At Pyrrha’s nod, she straightened her back and cleared her throat, keeping her eyes on the table in front of her. “Of course. I can use it to cause mental hallucinations. They can be pretty elaborate, full-sensory, but usually I can only affect one person at a time. The most I’ve ever been able to manage is three, and it nearly made me black out.” She shrank in on herself slightly. “Yang really did see Merc attack her in the arena.”</p><p>“And as for my part there,” Mercury continued, pausing to tap his shins together with a tinny, metallic <em> clink. </em>“Can’t break your leg if you don’t have legs.”</p><p>Emerald briefly shut her eyes. <em> “Mercury please stop talking.” </em>She sighed. “And with Pyrrha…”</p><p>“I saw more of a threat than there really was,” Pyrrha finished, quietly. She made a quick glance down at her hands. “And...reacted accordingly. If I had known—if I had realized Penny was made of <em> metal </em> I would <em> never </em>have risked using my Semblance that way, I swear—”</p><p>Blake dropped down, reaching over the corner of the table to grip her hand; Pyrrha’s voice had started to rise in something close to panic. “I know,” she said, squeezing tightly. <em> “No one </em>blames you, Pyrrha. You would never have hurt anyone.”</p><p>Emerald’s shoulders hunched as Blake turned a cold glare in her direction.</p><p>Before she could say any of the many things on her mind—Emerald Sustrai was a liar, a murderer, a traitor, <em> she’d made her doubt Yang </em>—Pyrrha put a warning hand on her shoulder.</p><p>“Blake,” she said, voice smaller than usual. “They helped me escape. I know...believe me, I know better than most the damage they’ve caused. But they <em> saved my life. </em> And they weren’t...the driving force behind Beacon’s fall. They risked everything to help me get this far. It...doesn’t make up for the rest, but I think they deserve a second chance. I’m willing to vouch for that, whatever my word is worth.”</p><p>Blake made quick eye contact with Ilia, who blushed slightly and looked away.</p><p>“...Alright,” Blake said softly. “We’re giving them the benefit of the doubt.” This close to Pyrrha, Blake could see clearly something she’d missed before: her bare upper arms, as well-defined as ever, were also covered in a litany of small, faint scars that seemed to form <em> patterns. </em>Blake's stomach churned, and she quickly averted her eyes. “The restraints stay for now, I <em> don’t </em>trust you two, but...we’ll see how this goes.”</p><p>The restraints were a formality more than anything else—Pyrrha, at the very least, could open them without a second thought if she wanted to.</p><p>“Hey,” Sun said, “I’m just glad there’s someone around now who your dad hates worse than <em> me.” </em>He nudged Mercury again, who rolled his eyes but held his tongue.</p><p>“I’m still making my mind up,” Dad said flatly. “You mentioned Mistral, though. We’re currently planning an expedition there ourselves, as it happens.”</p><p>Mom scowled, and she didn’t do a great job disguising the bitter fury in her voice. “They might have failed in their coup <em> here, </em>but Mistral hasn’t had such luck. We...received word that Adam Taurus murdered Sienna Khan several weeks ago, seized control of the Fang, and is planning an attack on Haven Academy.”</p><p>“Sienna was a close friend of ours.” Blake’s father shook his head, growling deep in his chest. “We may have chosen to dedicate ourselves to different approaches, but we <em> understood </em> her philosophy and she understood ours. We <em> never </em> stopped respecting one another, or the work we did for our people. To use her name like this, as if <em> this </em>is anything like the kind of fight she would ever have wanted…”</p><p>“We’re planning to stop him,” Blake translated.</p><p>Pyrrha exchanged a quick, concerned look with Emerald.</p><p>“Then my information is even more urgent than I thought,” Pyrrha said. “We have reason to believe that Headmaster Lionheart will be in league with this attack.”</p><p>You could have heard a pin drop.</p><p>“That is a...<em>very </em>serious accusation to be making, young lady,” Dad said, dropping his voice an octave.</p><p>Belatedly, Pyrrha seemed to realize her implication. “He’s—he’s not in league with the rogue White Fang, that’s not what I meant. Or...they’re both in league with the same person, rather.” </p><p>“Cinder Fall,” Blake said, and Pyrrha <em> flinched. </em> Frowning, Blake continued, clarifying for her parents’ sake. “She was the mastermind behind the Fall of Beacon, posing as Emerald and Mercury’s team leader. The whole time she was at Beacon I thought she sounded oddly familiar, but I didn’t make the connection until her speech the night of the Fall. The night before I deserted, I overheard her trying to recruit Adam to help her with something. She called it <em> a revolution of her own. </em>He shut her down, but...apparently he had second thoughts.”</p><p>“He did,” Emerald said, wincing again as attention was turned on her. “We came back a few days later, and Cinder...uh, was able to persuade him that time.”</p><p><em> “Bastard,” </em> Ilia muttered, her skin turning bright red in anger. “He never mentioned <em> anything </em>like that to me.”</p><p>Blake hadn’t taken her eyes off Pyrrha. Her friend’s expression was perfectly, <em> carefully </em>neutral, shoulders tensed, hands clenched tight around her teacup, which she stared at in a way that made Blake suspect she wasn’t really seeing it.</p><p>“Pyrrha,” she said, with a calm firmness that she did not feel. “What <em> happened?” </em></p><p>Pyrrha took a deep, shaky breath. “It’s...a very long story. This—the attacks on the Huntsman academies—this is all part of something very complex and...terrible.”</p><p>“I trust you, Pyrrha,” Blake said. “I believe you have a good explanation for...all of this.”</p><p>She was also increasingly certain that she wasn’t going to like a single word of Pyrrha’s story.</p><p>Pyrrha hesitated, biting at her lower lip. That haunted look in her eyes was stronger now, and it made Blake even more queasy. “I...yes. Yes, I do. Though some of the things I’m going to say will sound...unbelievable. I’m not sure where to start…”</p><p>“Alright,” Dad said, leaning forward. “Take your time, Miss Nikos. You’re safe here. Start from the beginning. You mentioned that your associates here helped you <em> escape. </em>Escape from where?”</p><p>For another heartbeat, Pyrrha hesitated.</p><p>“Sir,” she said, and stopped, and started again. “What...what is your favorite fairy tale?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is it. This is the big one.</p><p>This fic, generally referred to as "the Odyssey AU", is something that has been bouncing around in our heads since Volume 5 was still airing. Until now, we didn't feel like we had the skills to do it justice. But now here we are. Writing it. We're SO excited.</p><p>Future updates will generally be longer than the prologue, and it'll take some time before they come out—we want to build up a buffer, because this fic requires a lot of intricate plotting and we don't want to write ourselves into a corner.</p><p>And a final note: I've babbled about this AU to a lot of mutuals over the years, so if you know any upcoming plot points, please keep them out of the comments. ;)</p><p>And lastly, a huge shoutout to Tumblr user kaenaceofravenclaw, without whom this would not have been possible.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Polyphemus' Cave</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Odysseus and his crew sneak out from the cave of Polyphemus.</p><p>Or: Athena and Hermes rescue Odysseus from the isle of Calypso.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>An explanation of the title: every crewed spacecraft in the Apollo program was named by their crew, with the Command/Service module and the Lunar module being two different spacecraft. These names ranged from appropriately serious (Apollo 11: Columbia and Eagle) to extremely not (Apollo 10: Charlie Brown and Snoopy).</p><p>The Command and Lunar modules on Apollo 13 were, respectively, named Odyssey and Aquarius.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Emerald opened her eyes.</p><p>“We’re clear,” she breathed. No windows with a line of sight, no minds in the immediate area. Mercury didn’t wait for details; he twisted the lock in the staircase door, shouldered it open, and dragged Em inside after him before any of those creepy jellyfish things could come along by accident and get them all killed.</p><p>Pitching her voice low as he locked the door behind them, Emerald began, “Shouldn’t we leave it—”</p><p>“Too suspicious,” Mercury cut her off. “No one’s supposed to be down here, she’d know something was wrong as soon as she touched the handle. And this way we’ll have a few seconds of warning if anyone follows us.”</p><p>Emerald didn’t usually make a habit of leaving locked doors behind her when there was only one way out. And part of her still thought they should be doing this part her way—she was a thief, after all, and they were...stealing. From Cinder.</p><p>
  <em> Don’t think about it don’t think about it don’t think about it. </em>
</p><p>But she, and it was a mark of how serious the situation was that she didn’t gag a bit thinking it, trusted Mercury. He...had a lot more experience when it came to sneaking in and out of a house without getting caught. If he said it was safer to leave doors locked that were meant to be locked, just this once, she believed him.</p><p>It was a long, twisting, narrow staircase down to the dungeon level. A climb that Emerald had made way, way too many times, and now she was doing it for the last time.</p><p>Okay. She really needed to stop thinking about things like that.</p><p>Eighth cell on the right, for some reason. <em> There’s only one person here, why put her so far down?! </em></p><p>Emerald’s fingers shook with nerves as she moved to unlock the cell door; Mercury, glancing over his shoulder, took the keys and did it himself, pushing the door open and taking a step back. Emerald slipped inside, pulling the keys from Mercury’s hand on the way without him noticing. </p><p>She <em> did </em> trust Mercury. She had to, in order to have gotten this far. But he refused to go inside a cell at all knowing what they were about to do—and she wasn’t going to leave <em> anyone </em>behind her with the ability to close and lock that door.</p><p>Pyrrha Nikos was already standing when Emerald stepped inside. Wary, exhausted green eyes flicked between Emerald and the door, but she didn’t say anything.</p><p>Emerald held up the bundle of fabric she’d brought along and said, “It’s time, come on.”</p><p>For a long, awful second, Pyrrha hesitated. The glaze of hopeless pain in her eyes threatened to overwhelm them completely.</p><p>Then her jaw tightened. She flexed her fingers, and let out a short gasp of relief as crimson Aura flared over her body for the first time in months. It flickered like a candle flame the moment it was activated, as her body immediately started leeching from it in a desperate attempt to heal itself; but there was more than enough time, and more than enough Aura reserve, for Pyrrha to use her Semblance again.</p><p>The shackles at her wrists and ankles glinted in the dim light from the candles along the wall, seemed to vibrate for a moment, and then flew off with more force than was strictly necessary. The loud clang of metal on stone made Emerald flinch and instinctively glance over her shoulder, they needed to be <em> quiet... </em>but she couldn’t really blame Pyrrha for it.</p><p>She handed Pyrrha the bundle of clothes—it was just a spare hoodie and cargo pants that belonged to Mercury, Pyrrha was too tall for any of Emerald’s clothes and it was all they had, but it was better than nothing—and turned away while she got dressed.</p><p>“Done,” said Pyrrha’s voice behind her, flat and professional.</p><p>Emerald turned back to check on her just as she finished tying her hair back in a ponytail. Her Aura was still flickering, it probably would be for a while; but the chafing and bruising around her wrists, what little of it Emerald caught a glimpse of before Pyrrha yanked down the sleeves of her borrowed hoodie, was at least starting to fade a little.</p><p>Finally, Pyrrha reached up to the gilded collar clipped tight around her neck, and snapped it open. “I’m ready.”</p><p>Emerald nodded, but Pyrrha kept standing there for a moment, staring down at the golden band between her fingers. </p><p>She closed her eyes, brought the engraved edge to her forehead, and whispered something too quiet for Emerald to hear. After a moment they couldn’t afford, she finally pressed a brief kiss to the metal and let it fall.</p><p>Something flipped over guiltily in Emerald’s stomach. But Pyrrha didn’t look back as she walked over to her, stepped outside the circle she had lived in since she was brought here, and Emerald was briefly confused as Pyrrha held out her hand expectantly.</p><p>“Oh,” she realized. Feeling very stupid, she pulled one of her revolvers from their holster, handing it to Pyrrha handle-first. Pyrrha gripped it tight, and not for the first time Emerald flinched a little under the intensity of her gaze.</p><p>“Remember what you promised me,” Pyrrha said.</p><p>Emerald swallowed. “Yes, ma’am. I mean—I will.”</p><p>Pyrrha didn’t acknowledge the slip beyond a stiff nod as she brushed past Emerald, stood flat against the wall, and toed open the cell door. Emerald watched her eyeline; she made brief eye contact with Mercury as she brought Emerald’s pistol up unashamedly into his face, cleared the hallway behind him with a glance, and repeated the process on the other side before lowering the weapon again.</p><p>“There’s eight people on this <em> entire continent </em> and we’re three of them,” Mercury snapped under his breath. “Can we <em> go now?” </em></p><p>Pyrrha glared at him. “Fine.”</p><p>Emerald had already closed and locked the cell door behind them. She slipped a thin L-shaped rod of metal into the bottom of the keyway and placed slightly too much tension on the mechanism; Mercury had bitched about this part of her plan, but any time at all that she could buy them before Cinder discovered Pyrrha was gone could make a difference. Picking a lock <em> badly </em> was easy. She was intentionally sloppy with the pick; in a few seconds she’d jammed the security pins so badly Cinder would probably have to melt the lock off to get in.</p><p>Which was was entirely capable of. Because she could throw fire from her hands now. She’d been terrifyingly powerful <em> before </em>she took the full powers of a Maiden, Emerald still hadn’t even seen her really let loose with those powers in combat— </p><p>Don’t think about it. <em> Really </em> don’t think about it.</p><p>“Come on,” she said quietly, and they crept up the stairs again.</p><p>There were still no minds nearby; but Emerald’s Semblance didn’t work on Grimm, because she couldn’t sense their minds. Pyrrha was <em> not </em>happy about being left around the corner while Mercury and Emerald checked for Seer Grimm; but she didn’t waste time arguing, either.</p><p>All clear. All clear so far.</p><p>“Em,” Mercury ground out as she set to work destroying the mechanism of this lock as well, casting twitchy glances both ways down the hall. “Come on,<em> leave it, </em> just break the key off in the lock or something—!”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, because <em> that </em> won’t look suspicious at all.” Emerald completely understood, though; this was the most exposed she’d ever felt in her <em> life, </em> and that was saying something. After a few seconds that took about thirty years, she felt the lock seize up. “Let’s go.”</p><p>They couldn’t afford to run; which was good, because out of the dim light of the dungeon… Pyrrha looked like shit. She was limping slightly, pale and thin, panting heavily with the strain of walking more than a few steps at a time at all. Every time they dropped to creep under the windows in a glass-lined corridor, every time they paused at a crossroads to check for Seers she let Emerald’s pistol fall limply to her side, half-collapsed against the stone wall to stay upright, her other hand pressed tightly against her ribs.</p><p>At this rate they’d be lucky if she made it to the hangar on her own two feet.</p><p>But they had to <em> move. </em> The problem with trying to escape during what Mercury referred to as the Board Meetings Of Evil was that Salem was...efficient. Those meetings never lasted longer than half an hour, and she preferred to keep them under fifteen minutes. That wasn’t <em> nearly </em> enough time to get into the dungeons, spring Pyrrha, sneak to the hangar bay, sabotage all the airships but one, hotwire an airship, and put enough distance between them and Evernight that only the Grimm would be able to track them. They’d had to kick the plan off twenty minutes <em> before </em>the planned meeting and...hope there wouldn’t be any sudden scheduling changes.</p><p>This was a really big...castle, palace, fortress, whatever. The odds were tiny that they’d run into anyone. But there was always a chance—</p><p>Pyrrha heard her first.</p><p>She suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, breath not just catching but <em> stopping. “She’s coming,” </em>was all she could manage in a strangled whisper.</p><p>Mercury grabbed her shoulder. “Quiet,” he growled, so low even Emerald barely heard him; by now she could also hear the quiet, empty clinking of glass on stone. She took a deep breath, steeled her nerves, and wrapped her mind around Cinder’s as she came steadily closer down the connecting hallway.</p><p>
  <em> Nobody’s here. Nobody’s here. Nobody’s here. </em>
</p><p>Cinder didn’t even break stride coming around the corner. Towards them. Shit.</p><p>
  <em> Nobody’s here, nobody’s here— </em>
</p><p>If she slipped up they were dead.</p><p>Emerald had never done this before—not to <em> Cinder, </em> not except under orders, to demonstrate the limits of her Semblance. It was harder than it should have been, and that terrified her. Not <em> physically </em> hard; her mind bent around Cinder’s as easily as anyone else’s. But her Semblance was a lie; and like any lie, it depended on the liar to <em> sell </em>it.</p><p>And she’d never been able to lie to Cinder.</p><p><em> Nobody’s here, </em> she thought, increasingly hysterical as Cinder walked closer, feeling her Semblance flare and waver dangerously as she started to lose her grip of what she even wanted Cinder to see. <em> You don’t hear anything you don’t see anyone nobody’s here— </em></p><p>By chance, as she backed slowly up against the wall to give Cinder room to pass by them, she glanced over at the others.</p><p>By chance, she saw the look on Pyrrha’s face.</p><p><em> Deer in headlights </em> didn’t cover it. She was <em> rooted </em>in place, shaking like a leaf in a gale, staring at Cinder like she was the only thing in the universe—and Emerald could swear her impossibly shallow breaths were coming in time to the click of Cinder’s heels. Beside her, Mercury had a death grip over Pyrrha’s weapon hand, holding it down against the occasional twitch upward.</p><p>Emerald’s raw terror didn’t decrease at the sight of Pyrrha’s—but something in her chest slid back into alignment, a steel edge to it.</p><p>She forced her shoulders to relax, forced herself to blink without looking away from Cinder’s face.</p><p><em> There’s nothing here to see, </em> she thought, steadier now. <em> There’s no one here to notice. This is an empty hallway. There’s nothing here for you. </em></p><p>Cinder came within three feet of them—and kept going, up toward the hall where Salem held court. She never even paused.</p><p>It was at least a full minute before anyone breathed.</p><p>Pyrrha’s first sign of life was a violent, abrupt movement—she wrenched free of Mercury’s warning grip on her weapon, snarling wordlessly in his face. Merc, who normally never missed an opportunity to be an ass about someone else overreacting, just held his hands up and sighed.</p><p>Emerald reached out to tap Pyrrha’s elbow for her attention, then thought better of it. Suddenly not wanting to make any more noise, she just gestured them after her. They were <em> so close </em> to the hangar now. If they could just get there without running into anyone else…</p><p>...and somehow, they <em> did. </em></p><p>“Get her to that one,” Mercury ordered under his breath, pointing toward the steel-blue Atlesian recon ship they’d both desperately hoped would still be here today. They didn’t have any control over who took which airships or when; this at least was a stroke of luck. Merc ducked away toward the Mistrali ship and started fucking around with a panel on its side. They didn’t want anyone being able to follow them.</p><p>And he’d called Emerald breaking the <em> dungeon locks </em> a waste of time. If there was a pursuit in the air it’d be <em> Grimm </em> , not a Mistrali cruiser, they needed to <em> leave— </em></p><p>But they’d feel really stupid—very stupid very briefly, but still—if they didn’t sabotage the airships and then ended up getting tracked down with one. So, while Mercury went to rip out the spark plugs or whatever, Emerald shadowed Pyrrha over to the Atlesian ship and hauled the side door open to give her a hand up; there was absolutely no way she was gonna be able to make that jump in her current condition.</p><p>Pyrrha clearly realized this too, and just as clearly resented it. That was...all right. That was fair. She still took Emerald’s hand and let herself be half-lifted into the airship. Emerald climbed up after her and sat down on the edge.</p><p>Emerald expected her to sit down too; it’s what she would have wanted to do in her state. But Pyrrha just gripped her borrowed pistol tighter, wavered and leaned heavily against the bulkhead for several seconds. Then, with Emerald watching only out of the corner of her eye—she needed to focus on the hangar doors, in case anyone showed up for some reason—Pyrrha started running a slow, painful sweep of the vehicle. The cockpit first; then, stumbling, shaking with the effort, she checked every onboard crate, the head, the storage closet…</p><p>Mercury was back and setting to work tearing out their location beacons by the time Pyrrha finally collapsed on the floor next to Emerald, Aura still flickering weakly around her.</p><p>“Collapsed” was alarmingly literal, actually.</p><p>“Whoa,” said Emerald, not looking away from the hangar entrance but reaching over toward Pyrrha anyway. “You okay?”</p><p>Pyrrha turned very slowly in her peripheral vision, and Emerald didn’t have to look at her to know the exact expression in those eyes.</p><p>She winced.</p><p>“I meant, uh. Like. Physically.”</p><p>There was another long pause.</p><p>“No,” said Pyrrha.</p><p>“Right. Stupid question.”</p><p>Awkward silence.</p><p>“...Emerald?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“This is...real, isn’t it.”</p><p>Emerald knew exactly what she meant. “Yeah...yeah, Pyrrha, we’re gonna get you out of here.”</p><p>Pyrrha went quiet again. Then, she stood back up—more like <em>pulled herself</em> up, really—and went back in the hold. After a moment, Emerald heard the onboard weapons locker open and close.</p><p>Pyrrha came back but didn’t sit down again, and this time she had a long rifle slung over her shoulder.</p><p>“I thought...I wouldn’t let myself believe this was real. I thought it would be a trick. Another...game.” Pyrrha swallowed heavily. “But when we ran into her—that wouldn’t have happened if this was a trap.”</p><p>Emerald offered a forced grin. “Hey, we got this far. Cinder would <em> never </em>risk letting you get this close to an airship, right?”</p><p>“Yes,” Pyrrha corrected softly. “Yes, she would. The airship would already be disabled. I expected her to be waiting in the cockpit. To let me get as close as possible before…”</p><p>Emerald shivered. “Hey,” she said. “Hey, listen. That’s not gonna happen. Everything’s gonna be fine.”</p><p>“Oh, we’re all gonna die,” Mercury disagreed from the cockpit, strapping himself into the pilot’s shock harness. “You girls want to have a tea party or are you gonna tie yourselves in so we can get the <em> fuck out of this nightmare already?” </em></p><p>Emerald rolled her eyes and pushed herself back, stood up inside the hold, turned—and found Pyrrha, silently offering her her pistol back, grip-first.</p>
<hr/><p>“This report from one of our contacts in Anima,” Hazel continued, thoughtful. “The girl. They may not have realized what they were seeing; but it sounds like <em> Ozpin </em>had another silver-eyed warrior in the pipeline. She’s not been accounted for in the plans for Haven Academy.”</p><p>Cinder snorted. “What, the child? I really don’t think she’ll be so hard to plan around. The Fall of Haven doesn’t even rely on Grimm. Even if she has started to learn that little party trick—it wouldn’t do her any good. Too little, too late.”</p><p>“Be that as it may,” said Salem with a slight smile. “We lose nothing by limiting our risk factors.” </p><p>Tyrian leaned forward. “Though truly a sight to behold,” he sighed, “the chaos in Vale is perfectly self-sustaining...for the time being, of course. It’s been <em> too </em> long since I took a trip to Anima! Miss Rose can’t pose any threat to our plans for Haven Academy unless she <em> reaches </em>it, after all...”</p><p>“Mmm.” Hazel didn’t pretend to be happy about it, but he didn’t argue the point.</p><p><em> “Alive, </em> Tyrian,” Salem clarified, not unkindly. “As intact as is...reasonable. Leave the eyes.”</p><p>Tyrian looked surprised, but accepted the clarification with a good-natured shrug. “My lady.”</p><p>“Mmm.” Cinder smirked. “Perhaps we can arrange a little...class reunion.”</p><p>Hazel rolled his eyes, Tyrian laughed, and Salem just gave an indulgent snort.</p><p>Watts waved a careless hand. “Well, Your Grace, I have absolutely no idea what <em> you </em> could possibly want with the girl, but that’s not my business. Regardless. With Tyrian cutting loose ends, there don’t appear to be any other major interferences. Adam Taurus is out of contact for the moment, of course. But it’s not as if we don’t know where he’s going. He used <em> our </em>airships to evacuate his people, after all. Idiot.”</p><p>Hazel hummed, accepting that information. “Good. That should make it easier. Ma’am, the sooner I make contact with the rogue Fang again the better. Left to his own devices…”</p><p>Salem inclined her head in agreement as Hazel spoke; but as nothing thus far was anything but affirming the plans she already had in place, her eyes wandered to the vast Grimm plain outside the picture windows.</p><p>After a moment, her gaze sharpened.</p><p>“...and I don’t anticipate <em> any </em> real trouble with Lionheart,” reported Cinder. “He’s nothing but a weakling. All I’ll need to do is show up in his office again, and he’ll lose <em> any </em> squeamishness about arranging a few <em> unfortunate accidents </em>for his colleagues.”</p><p>“He’s a coward,” Hazel agreed. “You know his type. My only concern is—”</p><p>“Cinder,” said Salem, voice impossibly mild, blood-red eyes tracking something on the distant plains. Very slowly, eerily calm, she turned back to the room at large and rested her chin on her steepled fingers. “Where...<em> precisely </em>...are Emerald and Mercury this evening.”</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> “Fuck!” </em>
</p><p>Emerald couldn’t disagree with Mercury’s assessment.</p><p>All right, all right, they’d <em> known </em>they were probably going to get caught the minute they powered up the engines on this thing. All their “buying time” tricks had mostly been wishful thinking.</p><p>But a girl could hope, right? Would <em> five minutes </em> before the Grimm realized something was wrong have been too much to ask?</p><p>Pyrrha shot a Griffon through the wing; trailing black smoke, it fell toward the plain, which only left about seventeen thousand of them to go.</p><p>“Mercury!” Emerald shouted into the cockpit. “Isn’t this thing supposed to be <em> fast?” </em></p><p><em> “I don’t know where the afterburner is!” </em> Mercury yelled back. “You think I know how to fly this thing?! I’ve never even been <em> on </em>this thing without Hazel!”</p><p>“You <em> said </em>you could fly it!” Emerald yelped. A flock of Giant Nevermore was rising in the distance. They were too slow to catch up at this range, but any number of Giant Nevermore big enough to be described as a ‘flock’ was just concerning on principle.</p><p>“Mostly! I said <em> mostly!” </em></p><p>Another Griffon rushed her side of the airship. She fired as fast as she could and managed, just barely, to put enough bullets in its chest to drop it.</p><p>“I think I’ve got it!” said Mercury, at which point the engines turned off.</p><p>Ten extremely long seconds of violent swearing later, they spluttered back to life just in time to narrowly dodge a swipe by a Beringel as it hauled itself out of a spawning pit.</p><p>“Nope,” Mercury reported. “Okay, I think it’s this one—no, that’s the radio, ugh, can’t even get any stations—”</p><p>
  <em> “Stop touching things!” </em>
</p><p>“This is an Atlesian ship,” Pyrrha said, voice tight, coldly shooting down Grimm on both sides of the ship before they could get in range of Emerald’s pistols. “There should be anti-Grimm defenses.”</p><p>Emerald made a face. “Not anymore.” A nest of Ravagers swarmed over the ship, knocking her off-balance; here she was of more use than Pyrrha, slashing and firing wildly into the flock until a sharp roll from Mercury shook the rest loose and they fell behind. “Salem—her inner circle doesn’t need Grimm defenses, right? And if they ever did, it’d be because they betrayed her.”</p><p>“Real smart of her,” said Mercury helpfully. “Since we’re doing that. Right now. <em> Afterburner!” </em></p><p>The overhead sprinklers activated.</p><p>
  <em> “Wrong one!” </em>
</p><p>Emerald got lucky and nailed another Griffon between the eyes as Merc mercifully shut the sprinklers back off. “Mercury, <em> read the fucking labels before you press anything else!” </em></p><p>“Hey! Sore subject!” Emerald rolled her eyes—Mercury could<em> read, </em> he might not be great at it but he didn’t actually have any problems with the damn controls—but before she could snipe back he said, “Uh, guys? What’s that?”</p><p>“I don’t know, Mercury,” she snapped. “Maybe it’s the <em> afterburner!” </em></p><p><em> “Em! </em> What the hell <em> is </em> that?!” He gestured vaguely behind himself.</p><p>Emerald stuck her head out the side door, praying the safety rope would actually hold her if she fell, and looked behind them. There was a spot of light in the distance behind them, closing steadily, flickering like a bright star or—</p><p>Oh <em> fuck. </em></p><p>She stuck her head back inside long enough to yell, <em> “Cinder’s after us!” </em></p><p>A Pteryx slammed into Pyrrha’s side of the airship.</p><p>Emerald hit the end of her lifeline hard, driving the air out of her lungs as her diaphragm tried to escape via her esophagus; but the cord held, which was something. She hauled herself back through the door, dodging scythe claws as Pyrrha scrambled backward and tried to get enough room to get a shot off. Emerald buried both of her own scythes in the Pteryx’s throat, and it dissolved.</p><p>“Where did that thing even <em> come </em> from?” she panted, to distract herself from Cinder’s approach for a few precious seconds. <em> Cinder was coming to kill them all, she was coming to kill </em> Emerald <em> , she </em>—she could have a crisis about that later.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” said Pyrrha in a tiny voice, white-faced, and Emerald realized what had happened. Somehow, impossibly, with a target that size closing in perfect visibility, Pyrrha Nikos had missed her shot.</p><p>The airship jerked as Mercury dodged another incoming Grimm. <em> “Shoot! More!” </em></p><p>Pyrrha’s face blanked, and she turned back to her designated side to resume shooting. For a moment Emerald thought she’d missed again as the nearest Griffon only flinched out of the way; then a second Pteryx, closing at speed where the Griffon was only flanking them, dropped out of the sky without time to so much as scream. The next three shots took out two Griffons and a Lancer scout.</p><p>For a few deadly seconds, all Emerald could do was stare. Pyrrha was dead on her feet, she hadn’t <em> eaten a full meal </em> let alone touched a weapon since Beacon—the ship shuddered and Emerald snapped out of it, jumping back to her place. Every few moments she glanced astern to check on Cinder.</p><p>Cinder was getting closer. She’d be in range before long, and if she landed a hit she would blow them out of the sky.</p><p>“Merc, we’ve gotta outrun her!”</p><p>
  <em> “I’m looking for the stupid boost Emerald get off my ass!” </em>
</p><p>“Look <em> faster!” </em></p><p>A Griffon rushed the airship ahead of Cinder as Mercury turned on the Fasten Seatbelt sign, turned it off again, then seemed to reconsider and turned it back on. Fair enough.</p><p>Cinder was close enough that Emerald could just barely feel her mind at the edge of her Semblance. She had a good range—she’d trained it <em> ruthlessly </em> in preparation for the tournament and the Fall—but it wasn’t <em> that </em>good.</p><p>Pyrrha’s rifle rang out behind her, and Emerald…</p><p>Emerald glanced back at her—pale and blank-faced, running on fumes of adrenaline and barely able to stand, mechanically shooting down Grimm with a dead-eyed, unyielding determination. Her gaze was dragged unwillingly to the number of alarms flashing on Merc’s dashboard. They were in bad shape, and Cinder was...Cinder, she was the Fall Maiden, she was...a killer.</p><p>Quietly, unexpectedly calm, something in the back of Emerald’s mind realized: <em> We’re not going to make it. </em></p><p>Cinder was focused on catching up to the airship right now; but in a few more seconds she’d start realizing there were gunshots coming from both doors. As quickly as she could, Emerald folded mental hands around Cinder’s mind, and...edited those out.</p><p><em> It’s me and Mercury, </em> she thought, keeping her eyes on Cinder. To come after them this quickly, she couldn’t have had time to check the dungeon first. Why would she? What reason would they have to risk their lives rescuing Pyrrha Nikos? What was <em> she, </em> after all, to them? <em> It’s just the two of us. There’s no reason for there to be anyone else...  </em></p><p>Shooting Grimm, keeping her balance, and dodging fireballs all while keeping her focus on Cinder’s mind was...difficult, but she was managing. She just had to not look down—she’d always hated flying, and the last thing she needed right now was an attack of vertigo. The fact that Mercury had decided to take them through some rocks to try and shake Cinder was <em> not </em>helping.</p><p>“Mercury, you are a <em> terrible pilot!” </em></p><p>“Yeah, well, shut up, I’m all you have!”</p><p>That was true in a lot of ways that Emerald would rather not think about.</p><p>“I thought she’d be angrier,” Pyrrha said, emotionlessly—more like she was thinking out loud than talking to either of them.</p><p>Emerald could just start to make out details on Cinder’s face, and Pyrrha was right; she looked...more determined than furious. And she was shooting very, very determined fireballs that were coming uncomfortably close to their mark.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s not good,” Merc said. “She gets stupid when she’s pissed. But I dunno what more we could do—stabbed her in the back, stole an airship, took her favorite toy away, Salem’s gonna <em> skin her alive </em>for this.”</p><p>Pyrrha muttered something under her breath that was swallowed up by the wind.</p><p>“She doesn’t know about that last one,” Emerald called into the cockpit, raising her voice over the rush of the wind, the shrieking of Grimm, and Mercury’s swears as he managed to turn on the floodlights. “I’m blocking her out.”</p><p>The violent whiplash of Pyrrha’s ponytail at the corner of her eye caught her attention.</p><p>“What?” Pyrrha rasped over the engine noise.</p><p>Emerald risked turning her head slightly, careful to keep her eyes on Cinder. “I’m, um, I’m keeping her from seeing or hearing you. If we can’t get away, you can hide in a crate or something until she’s gone. You’ll still have a chance.”</p><p>Pyrrha blinked slowly, uncomprehending; then, for the second time, Emerald saw <em> life </em>flicker behind her eyes.</p><p>“Thank you,” said Pyrrha. Then, jaw clenched, rifle gripped in an exhausted, trembling grip, she abandoned the starboard door and dropped to one knee next to Emerald, pressed against the bulkhead for stability. </p><p>She watched without a word as Cinder, eyes blazing but expression cold, threw a fireball with terrifying accuracy into the tail of the airship. The entire frame shook; but for now, they stayed airborne.</p><p>Pyrrha raised her weapon, cold and steady.</p><p>“Thank you, Emerald,” she said again. “Drop the illusion, please.”</p><p>Emerald didn’t waste time arguing. </p><p>For a moment, Cinder didn’t realize what she was seeing. For another moment, she misunderstood—her focus was on Emerald, still, a mocking smirk on her face. <em> Did you really expect me to fall for that when I know your parlor trick, Emerald? </em></p><p>The next moment, Pyrrha shot her in the face. </p><p>Emerald could barely follow what happened next; Cinder instinctively brought a hand up where the bullet had impacted her Aura, over her eye, and the unbalanced thrust of flame from her other hand spun her right into a rock wall.</p><p>“Weak, yes,” Pyrrha hissed in tranquil fury. <em> “Coward, </em> no. And I <em> don’t </em>need to hide behind illusions.”</p><p>Cinder had recovered now, but she’d lost her momentum. Fire spouted from her mouth as she <em> screamed </em>in rage and drew her arm back. Fire swirled around her hand, the howling crackle audible even from this distance, and Emerald took half a step back from the door on instinct.</p><p>“Mercury…” she called.</p><p>The massive fireball launched after them like a tracking missile, bigger than the airship itself as it crept up their wake, and Merc’s attempts to perform some vague zigzag were nowhere near enough to avoid it.</p><p>Pyrrha closed her eyes.</p><p>The fireball sheared sideways, directly toward the open gun door—</p><p>And Mercury finally found the afterburner.</p><p>The airship surged forward so hard that Emerald was yanked off her feet and Pyrrha went flying into a pile of crates, barely making a sound at the impact. But they’d outstripped Cinder’s missile now; Emerald scrambled back to her feet to peer behind them and watched it dissolve, its remains colliding anticlimactically with a black-stone outcropping. Cinder herself had no hope of catching them up.</p><p>Metal scraped against metal behind her as Pyrrha crawled painfully out of the pile of crates to join Emerald looking back. At this altitude they could just barely make out the jagged crystalline silhouette of Salem’s fortress in the distance, but even that was rapidly fading toward the horizon. The sun was starting to set; soon they wouldn’t even be able to make out the sheen of the Grimm pools on the tortured landscape.</p><p>“We lost her,” Emerald said, disbelieving, as Cinder’s screaming form quickly shrank into the distance.</p><p>“Yeah, and we’re still<em> surrounded by Grimm,” </em> Mercury snapped. “Get Pyrrha <em> back on the fucking door!” </em></p><p>“Give her a minute,” Emerald snapped; but Pyrrha, barely reacting except to take a deep breath, had already turned back to her task.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Poseidon's Wrath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pyrrha and Emerald flee on Hermes' wings with the agents of Poseidon in pursuit.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tags are updated! Please take note of them.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was...warm.</p>
<p>That was Pyrrha’s only coherent thought, at first. It was warm. She was...lying down. Something hard beneath her. Her head propped up on something soft. Fingers carded through her hair, slowly, deliberately, rhythmically, nails just barely prickling her scalp. It felt...nice. It was nice.</p>
<p>Slowly, the fingers tightened in her hair.</p>
<p>
  <em> “Rise and shine, Pyrrha.” </em>
</p>
<p>That voice—singsong, melodic, Vale, Beacon, <em> Penny, </em>she’d been fighting—</p>
<p>Pyrrha’s eyes flew open, and with a snarl she tried to launch herself to her feet.</p>
<p>It was a good thing, probably, that Cinder Fall held her down by the hair. The moment Pyrrha jostled her right ankle a spike of white-hot <em> agony </em>shot through her, and for a moment her vision whited out.</p>
<p>“Careful, dear,” her enemy crowed, “I don’t want you to <em> hurt yourself.” </em></p>
<p>Pyrrha could remember, now that her initial disorientation was clearing up. Cinder shot her in the ankle, and she’d…</p>
<p>It was still fuzzy, after that. But Pyrrha’s vision was coming back into focus, Cinder’s smug face peered down at her from above, and with a start Pyrrha realized her head was in Cinder’s lap.</p>
<p>“What…” Her voice came out in a dry croak. She tried lifting her hand to her forehead, and…</p>
<p>Pyrrha realized two things in very quick succession. The first was that she was restrained—she felt metal, warm to her body temperature, around both wrists and her uninjured ankle, holding her down to the floor beneath her. In her peripheral vision she could see a pair of chains, running up into the stone ceiling of this dimly candlelit room.</p>
<p>The second thing was that, save from the restraints, she was completely naked.</p>
<p>“What’s going on,” she said again, panic cutting through her haze of confusion. “What—I thought—”</p>
<p>She’d thought she was going to die.</p>
<p>Cinder grinned, laughing a little under her breath, and in the dim light her amber eyes <em> glowed. </em>“Didn’t expect to wake up? I’m afraid I just couldn’t bring myself to destroy a work of art like yourself.”</p>
<p>Pyrrha swallowed.</p>
<p>“Let me up,” she said in a quiet voice.</p>
<p>Cinder hummed. “If you insist. But I wouldn’t recommend <em> standing, </em>dear.”</p>
<p>The fingers in her hair slackened, and Pyrrha sat up.</p>
<p>She was in a blank room, black stone on all six identical surfaces. She could see, but not well; dimly glowing violet Dust was set in the walls, and squat wax candles in dripping sconces flickered dimly in the corners, but there was no other source of light. The only features in the room were Pyrrha’s chains, an empty bucket she immediately chose not to think about, and what looked like an <em> extremely </em>solid wooden door.</p>
<p>She nearly leapt out of her skin as something prickly <em> touched </em>her, pressing at the top of her skull; Cinder’s touch on her bare shoulder made her flush with anger as she froze, long enough to realize it was just a hairbrush.</p>
<p>“What—are you doing?”</p>
<p>“Your hair is a disaster, dear.” Cinder’s tone was affectionate, unconcerned, and it made Pyrrha’s skin crawl. “No one’s made any attempt to tame it since before your fight with...well. Such a shame; it’s <em> lovely </em> when it’s properly cared for. Sit <em> still, </em> now.”</p>
<p>Pyrrha did not sit still. “Where...why am I here?” she asked instead, jerking at her chains. “What do you <em> want </em>from me?”</p>
<p>Cinder’s lips twitched. “Nothing you’re not already giving me.”</p>
<p>Pyrrha twitched, staring at an awkward angle over her shoulder for a long moment while Cinder smiled back at her.</p>
<p>“...Beacon,” Pyrrha said finally. It was hard to think. “You—the Grimm. What happened to Vale?”</p>
<p>Cinder gave her a vaguely pitying look, and drew a finger down her own jaw.</p>
<p>“Between the two of us,” she said lazily. “I think you have more important things to be worrying about right now. What happened in Vale is...well. That’s no longer your concern, is it?”</p>
<p>“It<em> is,” </em> Pyrrha snapped. “What did you do to my <em> team?” </em></p>
<p>Cinder raised a mild eyebrow. “Who?”</p>
<p>That was<em> it. </em></p>
<p>She might be in a bad situation but she could still use the chains themselves as weapons, so with a surge of righteous <em> fury </em>she willed her restraints to open—</p>
<p>And nothing happened.</p>
<p>She tried again, and <em> again, </em>and still nothing.</p>
<p>Cinder’s grin was all too knowing. “Having trouble with your little parlor trick?”</p>
<p>Pyrrha froze, real terror icing over her chest for the first time. Her Aura had broken, she knew that, but she also knew that it should have begun recharging by now; she didn’t <em> feel </em>the awful hollowness of an Aura break, her Semblance should be usable—</p>
<p><em> “I </em> don’t have any real use for that,” murmured Cinder. “So it’s been...taken away.”</p>
<p>“What did you do to me,” Pyrrha breathed. Then, “What did you <em> do to me? </em> This isn’t—”</p>
<p>It wasn’t possible, once Aura had been activated there was no going back, but—Pyrrha had seen a lot of things recently that shouldn’t have been possible.</p>
<p>“I saved your life, dear,” Cinder said, clicking her tongue in a mild rebuke. “Do they not teach <em> manners </em> in the tournament circuit? Where I’m from you <em> thank </em>someone when you owe them your life.”</p>
<p>Pyrrha wasn’t going to dignify that with a response.</p>
<p>As the silence stretched out, Cinder finally shook her head. “Typical. Gilded little <em> heroes </em> like you aren’t taught to look anywhere but down from their pedestals. The longer you cling to that unearned pride, Pyrrha Nikos, the worse this will be for you. I’ve waited a <em> very </em> long time to show you what you really are. The <em> Invincible Girl </em>...stripped of her advantages.”</p>
<p>Pyrrha slowly drew her good leg in as far as it would go, a doomed attempt to shield herself somehow. There was...too much bitterness in Cinder’s voice. Bitterness that could not possibly be directed at Pyrrha herself, but the...idea of her. There was a vengefulness there, the kind of viciousness that believed it was justified.</p>
<p>The kind that couldn’t be reasoned with.</p>
<p>“What did you do with my <em> armor,” </em> Pyrrha snapped, unable to keep the fear from her voice. She—it was worrying, okay. Leaving her without clothes was an obvious strategy to get her on the back foot and it was <em> working. </em></p>
<p>Cinder’s little smile slowly spread out into something outright mischievous. She held her hand out, palm up, and twitched her fingers. Embers ignited in the air, coming together and fusing into a long glass arrow that made Pyrrha’s heart twitch a beat. “Glassworking is more my forte,” Cinder said, spinning the arrow lazily between her fingers. “But I’m no stranger to metalworking, either. I simply made your armor and weapons into something...more to my liking.”</p>
<p>Pyrrha bared her teeth, yanking at her bonds in order to twist and glare at Cinder directly. “What,” she bit out, “is <em> that </em>supposed to…”</p>
<p>Her blood ran cold. Unable to stop herself, even in front of Cinder’s smoldering eyes and widening smirk—Pyrrha’s gaze was dragged toward her wrist, and the gold-tinted chains that bound it.</p>
<p>She hadn’t noticed, at first. At this angle, with so many other things happening so quickly, why would she take a second look, why would she care…</p>
<p>Cinder had destroyed Miló in their fight but that was <em> different, </em> that was fair, that was <em> combat, </em> this was—a Huntress’s weapon was an extension of herself, a reflection of her <em> soul, </em> something she’d forged herself at Sanctum, that she had a deep and profound connection with—</p>
<p>And Cinder Fall had melted it down like so much scrap metal. Like it was nothing.</p>
<p>Pyrrha couldn’t help the angry, anguished tears that sprang to her eyes. “How dare you,” she breathed. “How...dare you.”</p>
<p>A breath of laughter. “You’ll find I <em> dare </em>quite a lot, Pyrrha Nikos.”</p>
<p>Cinder snapped her fingers, blatantly feigning a sudden flash of memory.</p>
<p>“My,” she said. “I almost forgot.”</p>
<p>She snaked an arm around Pyrha’s torso, ignoring the violent twitch away from her touch as she placed the palm of her hand firmly over Pyrrha’s shoulder. The other hand pulled something from an inside pocket, twirling it idly between her fingers as she held it out in front of Pyrrha’s eyes—and waited.</p>
<p>Waited until, in a rush of sick, impotent horror, Pyrrha recognized the engravings on that golden collar. Down to the scuff marks.</p>
<p>Knowing it would only serve to amuse her captor, Pyrrha instinctively reached for her Semblance again. She couldn’t help it, not now that—she knew this metal, it had <em> never </em>failed her when she called on it. They had been through too much together—   </p>
<p>“A Huntress needs a good shield,” Cinder mused, lips brushing Pyrrha’s ear. “But you’re not a Huntress. You never were. So I think this will suit you much better, don’t you?”</p>
<p>“Please,” Pyrrha breathed, unable to move, unsure of what she was even pleading for, or with whom—Cinder for sanity if not mercy, the universe itself to let her wake up or die, to make this stop, or the despoiled soul clinging to that unassuming strip of gold turned against her, as Cinder Fall locked the remnants of Akoúo̱ around her neck.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Pyrrha jolted back into focus with a violent jerk.</p>
<p>It had been an hour after they’d crossed over the ocean before either Pyrrha or Emerald felt safe closing the airship doors. They still got the occasional investigatory contact, but their last sighting of a proper attack wave of Grimm had been hours ago. Emerald had gone into the cockpit to help Mercury fly, and told Pyrrha to try to get some sleep.</p>
<p>Pyrrha hadn’t been trying very hard.</p>
<p>Her body wanted sleep. Her body <em> needed </em>sleep, desperately. She’d long since burned through her restored Aura; it had barely made a dent in her aching muscles, and the rapid drain had left her utterly exhausted. </p>
<p>At least she’d stopped bleeding through the bandages over her right set of ribs; the wounds there had reopened a few times during the escape but she was <em> pretty </em>sure they were healed enough not to, now. She should probably check on it soon, but...Emerald and Mercury were here. And she didn’t really want to look at herself, anyway.</p>
<p>Emerald had found her a sleeping bag and an Atlesian military ration pack in the back. The pack still lay mostly untouched next to her—she knew better than to pass up an opportunity to eat, that instinct had been <em> seared </em>into her soul, but she knew if she tried eating the whole thing right now she’d just end up throwing it back up before long. Especially without water. She wasn’t certain whether Emerald and Mercury had managed to stock the airship before stealing it, but given the speed of their escape, she...doubted that.</p>
<p>Maybe there were water bottles in the back…?</p>
<p>“Mercury?” she called. Her voice came out too quiet to be heard over the engines, and she was too exhausted to try again.</p>
<p>She needed to <em> sleep. </em></p>
<p>But her brain wouldn’t let her. The few times she’d managed to nearly doze off she’d come to with a sensation like falling, heart pounding, fingers groping for her stolen rifle. It wasn’t safe to sleep. They hadn’t gotten away yet. This could still, somehow, be a trick...</p>
<p>If she slept now, she had no way of knowing where, or how, or <em> if </em> she would wake up.</p>
<p>But it was...so hard to stay awake, even if she didn’t want to, even if she <em> couldn’t </em>sleep when she tried.</p>
<p>It had been so long since…</p>
<p>She had a sleeping bag. It was military-issue and rugged, and the Atlesian military operated in <em> Solitas. </em> It was <em> extremely </em> high-quality, lined with wool, so soft against her battered feet that she wanted to cry and couldn’t manage that either. Mercury didn’t have spare shoes, certainly not that would fit her and be anything but a liability during an escape...but she’d managed to adjust the waistband of her borrowed cargo pants so that they nearly fit properly, and it had been so long since she was <em> warm </em> when trying to sleep. Warm, and covered, given that <em> one </em>baseline dignity.</p>
<p><em> Comfort </em> was something she’d forgotten.</p>
<p>Even the hum of the airship engines, which might have kept her awake, was a godsend after the unbearable monotonous <em> silence </em>of the dungeons of Evernight.</p>
<p>She was sitting back against the curved bulkhead, knees drawn up inside the sleeping bag, rifle across her lap. For the most part, she kept her eyes open, because if she closed them she might finally succumb to the sleep that was <em> bound </em>to catch up to her before long.</p>
<p>She rested her head back against the metal hull, the headrest of her sleeping bag buffering the vibration to something faint. Nearly soothing. Across from her, through the window of the sealed starboard-side gun door, the cloudless sky over an empty sea was awash with more stars than she’d ever seen in her life.</p>
<p>Her body wanted so badly to sleep.</p>
<p>Her eyes opened—when had her eyes closed? When had she let that happen?—at a quiet click from the direction of the cockpit. Emerald shrugged out of her flight harness, climbing back into the cargo area. She winced when she saw Pyrrha still awake.</p>
<p>“We...uh, have some radar contacts coming up from the southeast,” she said, pitching her voice low. “The formation looks like Grimm. We need to get the doors open in a few minutes.”</p>
<p>Pyrrha’s exhaustion crashed into her chest, a hot lead weight that threatened to crush her entirely.</p>
<p>More Grimm, again. She squeezed her dry, burning eyes closed, pressed the palm of her hand into them. Her pulse, uneven and sluggish, rose loudly in her ears, and her shoulders screamed as she nodded shortly and pulled herself onto her knees. She pulled herself out of her sleeping bag; it took seconds longer than it should have, her fingers barely stable and strong enough to open the zipper, but the force of her glare when Emerald moved to help put the girl on the other side of the airship instantly.</p>
<p>The ship wavered, entirely normal turbulence, barely enough to be noticeable; Pyrrha toppled hard against the bulkhead, rifle knocked from her shaking hands.</p>
<p>Gods, she really was <em> pathetic. </em></p>
<p>Emerald hovered awkwardly, obviously fighting the urge to help Pyrrha back to her feet. Don’t <em> look at me like that, </em> Pyrrha thought viciously, unfairly. <em> Don’t look at me, just stop it, I know I should be better than this… </em></p>
<p>She picked up her rifle again, using it to prop herself back up to standing. It was...a good thing she’d found a rifle back here. She was—she’d been a good shot, it had always been her tertiary weapon but she’d been a good shot, and because it was all she had now she didn’t have to...embarrass herself, trying to use a melee weapon.</p>
<p>
  <em> Some Huntress you turned out to be. </em>
</p>
<p>“I’ll be fine,” she said to Emerald. It was a blatant lie and they both knew it, but Emerald knew what she really meant. Swallowing heavily, she clipped herself back to the lifeline while Emerald stuffed her sleeping bag back in a crate so it wouldn’t blow out. Pyrrha...appreciated that. It wasn’t something she could really make herself think about right now.</p>
<p>Her body nearly refused the movement, but was that anything new? She ached with exhaustion and soreness and <em> pain </em>all over, but when was the last time she hadn’t? She knew how to live with pain. Cinder had taught her that all too well.</p>
<p>With a tired sigh, she called on her Semblance to summon a new Dust clip to her hand and loaded it into her rifle. At least she was still good for <em> that. </em></p>
<hr/>
<p>Well, they were less fucked than they’d been six hours ago.</p>
<p>Mercury was experimenting with optimism today.</p>
<p>They weren’t getting organized attack waves anymore; not since they’d gotten over the ocean and left Evernight behind. It looked like even Her Royal Creepiness had limits. He wasn’t gonna say that out loud, though, there was a time and a place to tempt fate on purpose.</p>
<p>At least in these kinds of numbers, Em and Pyrrha could hold them off pretty easy. No need for any fancy flying, which he couldn’t actually pull off anyway.</p>
<p>Something about the constant Grimm attacks seemed weird, though.</p>
<p>“Hey, Em,” he called back over the sound of gunfire and shrieking Grimm. “Is this like, a normal number of times for one airship to get mobbed by Grimm? You know, when it’s not on the Do Not Eat list?”</p>
<p>“Uh,” said Emerald. She fired off a cluster of shots that scattered the Nevermore flock. “I dunno. I’ve never been in an airship without...”</p>
<p>Cinder. Yeah. Well, it’d been worth a shot; Emerald had travelled more pre-Cinder than Mercury had, which wasn’t exactly a high bar.</p>
<p>“What?” said Emerald.</p>
<p>“Didn’t say anything,” Mercury called back to her.</p>
<p>Of course she wasn’t talking to him. Pyrrha, speaking louder this time, said, “No. And it isn’t because an Atlas airship is a threat. Bullheads aren’t usually attacked in the air. You don’t get many aerial Grimm far from land.” </p>
<p>She fired at a pair of diving Griffons. The first shot went wild, the second only grazed the lead Grimm; Mercury glanced back and saw her grit her teeth and raise her rifle higher, getting off two more rapid shots that hit home. Her arms shook; the moment the Grimm were dead the rifle’s barrel dropped hard to the floor, and Pyrrha closed her eyes, panting for air.</p>
<p>“I mean,” called Em. “Are you surprised? We just pissed off the Queen of the Grimm, I wasn’t exactly expecting to make friends with them.”</p>
<p>Yeah, Mercury thought. That wasn’t it.</p>
<p>There weren’t enough Grimm harassing them, and they weren’t organized enough, to be Salem’s direct influence. That was a good thing, because they were <em> absolutely </em>dead if she knew for certain where they were. This pretty much confirmed that she hadn’t tracked them the whole time.</p>
<p>Of course, it also meant the Grimm <em> were </em>tracking them.</p>
<p>
  <em> Hey, Em, we might be stupid. </em>
</p>
<p>Gee, how could the Grimm be honing in on their airship so easily? It was almost like they had a girl in the back who was literally radiating misery and despair like a fucking homing beacon.</p>
<p>Oh, damn.<em> Beacon. </em> Too soon.</p>
<p>But what was he supposed to say? Hey Pyrrha, I know you just got out of the torture pits of hell, but could you try smiling a little more? Even <em> he </em>had enough sense to know that’d be a good way to get her to just shoot him.</p>
<p>Still. She obviously wasn’t gonna be able to hold off any more waves of Grimm after this, and they weren’t anywhere near safe yet.</p>
<p>“Well,” he said loudly, keeping his voice as casual as he could. “I never really liked her much anyway. <em> Terrible </em> host. I’m gonna leave <em> such </em>a bad review for that place as soon as the CCT is back up.”</p>
<p>He could almost hear Emerald rolling her eyes. “Is this really the time?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, good point. My review won’t be any good compared to Pyrrha’s, anyway.”</p>
<p>Emerald whipped around, throwing a worried look toward Pyrrha. <em> “Mercury!” </em></p>
<p>“What? ‘The views were terrible and this one time room service didn’t leave a mint on my pillow’ just doesn’t rake in the likes next to ‘rude staff, they kidnapped and tortured me in the basement’.”</p>
<p>“Mercury,” Emerald hissed. “That’s not funny!”</p>
<p>Mercury shrugged, and was ready to let it drop; but after a long moment, Pyrrha responded.</p>
<p>“...Room service <em> was </em>terrible,” she said, voice weak. “And...the bed was a little hard.”</p>
<p>“No fresh towels,” Mercury agreed.</p>
<p>“Oh my gods, you two,” Emerald shook her head and fired another volley out the door.</p>
<p>“Didn’t even have a swimming pool,” Mercury said, clicking his tongue. “Worst hotel ever.”</p>
<p>“...Oh,” Emerald said, <em> finally </em>seeming to catch on. “No, they had swimming pools, but they were full of Grimm goop, so I wouldn’t recommend.”</p>
<p>“Checkout process was needlessly complicated,” Pyrrha rasped. “I <em> hate </em>to complain about poor service, but...neither of you are getting tips.”</p>
<p>“Bitch,” said Mercury cheerfully. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Place sucked so bad that like a quarter of the staff had quit by the end of your stay.”</p>
<p>Emerald snorted. “I mean…”</p>
<p>Pyrrha shot down one last Grimm, and looked toward the cockpit. Mercury grinned; she still looked...you know, like she’d been tortured, but for the first time, she actually gave a wry little smile.</p>
<p>“Didn’t even…” she mumbled. “Didn’t even get any points on my rewards card.”</p>
<p>“Hey Emmy,” decided Mercury. “I like this chick. She’s funny.”</p>
<p>Pyrrha rolled her eyes and sat back heavily against the bulkhead. But she looked a little more <em> alive </em> now.</p>
<p>“...Nevermores,” Emerald said slowly.</p>
<p>“What, again?!” Mercury spun around toward the instruments, which he had about a twenty percent understanding of in general. “Uh. They’re not on the radar.”</p>
<p>Emerald gave an annoyed huff. “No, idiot, I mean if we’re running into Nevermores we must be nearing land.”</p>
<p>Pyrrha lifted her head. “She’s right. Nevermore have a very short flight distance over water.”</p>
<p>“Good,” said Mercury, starting to actually feel cheerful. “Because I think this thing’s our fuel gauge, and that shit is in the <em> red.” </em></p>
<hr/>
<p>They <em> had </em> actually planned beyond stealing the airship. Pyrrha had wondered about that at first, frankly, but it had seemed rude to ask. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. But the <em> plan, </em> with the airship’s range, had been to get as far as Vytal Island and then find a different means of transport to wherever they wanted to go after that. Pyrrha...wanted to go <em> home, </em>more than anything, so her first thought had been Argus, her mother. But…</p>
<p>She had to concentrate, again, to get the image out of her head: Cinder, smiling, sitting legs-crossed on the couch of Pyrrha’s childhood living room, with her mother lying in a pool of blood at her feet.</p>
<p>Not Argus. Not yet. <em> Vale, </em> then. Her other family was there, her <em> team. </em>Jaune and Nora and Ren...they’d be there, still. Fighting on in her memory. The idea of reuniting with them was one that had tormented her day after day, but now that it was finally in sight...she could scarcely imagine it. Something...would go wrong. It would have to. This couldn’t be real.</p>
<p>“Okay,” said Emerald, hovering nervously and trying not to touch her. “Merc’s gonna program the autopilot. Or, uh, if he can’t do that we’ll just use duct tape to hold the controls in place. Anyone who’s following us...um, that’ll be Tyrian, you don’t...know him...he’s kind of Salem’s personal—it’s not important. But the easiest thing to track is gonna be the airship. So—”</p>
<p>“Let the airship continue on its trajectory,” Pyrrha interrupted, exhaustion making her curt. “Until it runs out of fuel. You want to bail out in flight so there’s no trail to follow from the wreckage. To throw Salem’s murderers off our scent.”</p>
<p>“...Yeah,” said Emerald. “We’re over mountain forests, so. What’s your landing strategy?”</p>
<p>Pyrrha stared out the open gun door, watching featureless blackness rush past below.</p>
<p>She was so close. This was something she’d done a thousand times, could do in her sleep. She did not have a choice. Her tiredness didn’t matter, her desperate hunger and weakness could be dealt with later. Right now she <em> had </em>to pull off a landing strategy, or this would all have been for nothing.</p>
<p>She took a deep breath, dredged up every scattered grain of determination remaining to her, and thought hard.</p>
<p>Finally, she opened her eyes again, and said, “I can’t.”</p>
<p>Emerald’s eyes widened. “Oh. Um...are you sure?”</p>
<p>Pyrrha clenched and unclenched her hands, and somewhere in the howling wind she could hear her own screams echo off the walls, a silky-smooth voice hiss in her ear…</p>
<p>“I can’t,” she said again. “I just…can’t.”</p>
<p>Emerald’s breathing visibly sped up; she fought to keep her voice calm, but it was a fight she mostly lost.</p>
<p>“Okay,” she said, clearly trying to sound reassuring. “That’s all right. Here.”</p>
<p>It took a few seconds for Pyrrha to understand what was happening, as Emerald held out both of her weapons for Pyrrha to take.</p>
<p>“...What…?”</p>
<p>Emerald swallowed. “I’ll talk you through my landing strategy,” she said, and this time she did a very good job of hiding her fear. “It’s not hard. I’ll use an unarmed LS and you can give those back when we meet up on the ground. I’ll be fine.”</p>
<p>Pyrrha was already shaking her head, feeling sick.</p>
<p>“I <em> can’t,” </em> she said, voice breaking. “Emerald, I. Cannot support my own weight. Under any circumstances.”</p>
<p>People always <em> did </em> this. They always thought Pyrrha Nikos could do anything she set her mind to. But they were <em> wrong. </em> She was...weak, and scared, and had never been invincible. She wasn’t some kind of...she was eighteen years old, and this should be second nature but it was as far beyond her grasp as the moon, and why had she let herself get to this point, she should have...</p>
<p>“Right,” said Emerald. “Okay. Maybe you can hold onto me? Or...we can rig up a harness with the lifelines, or something...Pyrrha, it’s gonna be okay. I said we’d get you somewhere safe, and we will, okay? I just need a minute to—”</p>
<p>Mercury stepped between them, throwing a backpack against Pyrrha’s chest.</p>
<p>“Wow, Em,” he said, obnoxiously bright. “That was <em> really </em> moving. I mean it. I’m all choked up. That was a beautiful demonstration of like, selflessness and contrition and seriously, Nikos, put the fucking parachute on.” They stared at him, and he rolled his eyes. “It’s an <em> airship, </em> girls. It has those.”</p>
<p>And neither he nor Emerald made any move to claim one for themselves. Pyrrha, hastily checking her straps, was dimly surprised to find she had enough pride left for that to sting.</p>
<p>“Right,” said Emerald, peering out of the airship. “I’ll go first, then you, then Mercury can—”</p>
<p>Pyrrha leapt into empty air.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Em.”</p>
<p>Emerald prodded at a leaf with a stick and ignored Mercury, which was how she spent most of her time.</p>
<p>“Emerald.”</p>
<p>“Keep your voice down,” she muttered, glancing over to where Pyrrha was curled up under a bush, wrapped in her parachute for warmth. Emerald hadn’t thought to grab the sleeping bag when they bailed out, but Pyrrha was so dead tired it probably didn’t matter much. “You’re gonna wake her up.”</p>
<p>Mercury shrugged, glancing at the sky. “Almost light enough to get moving anyway,” he pointed out. “Em, seriously, we need to talk. What the hell is our plan?”</p>
<p>Emerald ran a hand through her hair. “We get Pyrrha home and then find somewhere to disappear, remember?”</p>
<p>“Uh, <em> no, </em> the plan was we get as far as <em> Vytal </em> and then figure it out from there, because we assumed we’d be <em> dead by now.” </em></p>
<p>“Right, whatever, we’re figuring it out now then. While we were freefalling I saw a bunch of lights on the shore, fishing villages. There’s one about five miles that way.” There was another, much closer, in the opposite direction; but it was also further along the crashed airship’s trajectory, and Tyrian was smart enough to skip trying to chase them down in the woods and wait for them at the one place they would have to end up. Hopefully, going to the smaller and less accessible village would let them slip through. “We can ask for help and get passage on a boat or something from there.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Merc said, and he glanced at Pyrrha’s apparently-sleeping form again. “She’s gonna want to go to Argus, right? I’m thinking you and I <em> probably </em>shouldn’t be going anywhere near the Atlas military.”</p>
<p>Oh, right. “Uh,” Emerald started nervously. “Actually, um…”</p>
<p>Mercury sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m gonna hate this.”</p>
<p>“So, Pyrrha and I...talked about where she wanted to go, before we broke out. She, uh...wants to go to Vale.”</p>
<p>“Wow! Great for her. Makes total sense. So where are <em> you and I </em>going?”</p>
<p>Emerald cringed. “I mean…”</p>
<p>Mercury shot her a Look.</p>
<p>“Emerald,” he said. “No. Don’t say what you’re about to say, Emerald, I swear to—”</p>
<p>“What are we supposed to do?” she hissed. “Leave her in the woods? She can barely walk, what’s the <em> point </em>of getting her this far just to make her Grimm bait?”</p>
<p>Mercury shrugged. “Good question. <em> I’m </em> not the one who wanted to bring her along. For this exact reason, actually!”</p>
<p>Emerald set her jaw. “No,” she said stubbornly. “We have to get her to at least Vale. We owe her a <em> lot </em>more than that, Merc.”</p>
<p>“Vale,” Mercury explained with exaggerated patience, “Wants to <em> eat us and spit out our bones.” </em></p>
<p>“Gross.”</p>
<p>“Literally nowhere on the planet wants us dead as much as the Kingdom of Vale!” Mercury threw his hands in the air. “I don’t think <em> Salem </em>wants us dead as much as the Kingdom of Vale! And I don’t blame them, either, Em!”</p>
<p>“We’ll have Pyrrha with us.” It was a weak argument even to Emerald. “She can...vouch for us, they trust her, if she says we switched sides they’ll at least hear her out.”</p>
<p>“Did you, like, <em> forget </em>the Fall of Beacon?” he demanded. “Do you think she has? Once she’s back in Vale she doesn’t need us anymore and if you think this little rescue mission thing makes us even—”</p>
<p>“I know it doesn’t!”</p>
<p>“She won’t owe us <em> shit </em> except payback for seven months of getting <em>tortured.</em> I’d <em> respect </em>her telling us to skip the handbasket and go straight to hell the minute she’s got backup. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna go out of my way to give her the chance—!”</p>
<p>“Patch,” said Pyrrha.</p>
<p>They both looked at the bundle of parachute under a juniper bush.</p>
<p>“Uh,” said Mercury. “How long have you been—”</p>
<p>Finally, Pyrrha stirred, rolling over and disentangling herself from the chute. The bags under her eyes were as dark as ever, but lying down for a few hours while they waited for the sun to come up meant she wasn’t actively trembling anymore.</p>
<p>“I didn’t sleep,” she said shortly. Then, holding up the orange parachute: “It’s bright enough to move. We need to bury this. If Salem’s minions are tracking us from the air, it’s too easy to spot.”</p>
<p>Emerald saw Mercury wince and took comfort in the fact that she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t thought of that.</p>
<p>“Right,” she said. “What did you say about needing to patch something?”</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em> “...That’s it for tonight’s Beacon Watch. And our final story tonight; a woman in Patch taught her pet squirrel to, wait for it...ride a jet ski! This adorable adrenaline junkie’s name is Wiggles, and as you can see in this video—” </em>
</p>
<p>Taiyang clicked off the TV, rubbing his face. The Vale stations were doing their best, and he understood the need to give people...some kind of normalcy, right now. Big news stories were in short supply with the CCT net down for the foreseeable future, and broadcast stations had learned decades ago the dangers of giving too much airtime to Grimm attacks. It tempted fate.</p>
<p>They really were doing their best with what they had. It was hard to run a news cycle with no international communication, when the only real stories around were “meaningless local fluff” and “and now back to Lisa with today’s apocalypse forecast”.</p>
<p>That wasn’t an exaggeration, unfortunately. Grimm activity had replaced Vale’s traffic update section six months ago. They even used the same graphics package.</p>
<p>Zwei wiggled under his arm, and Tai had to smile at him.</p>
<p>“Ah,” he said, ruffling the dog between his radio-dish ears. “Who needs a stunt squirrel? I bet you could ride a jet ski if you wanted, huh buddy?”</p>
<p>Zwei rolled over onto his back. Tai patted his extremely round belly.</p>
<p>“Yup,” he decided. “Both of us over here in peak athletic form. Look out, ladies.”</p>
<p>Zwei panted.</p>
<p>Tai looked at him.</p>
<p>“You got stuck, didn’t you.”</p>
<p>Zwei wiggled emphatically and utterly failed to roll back over.</p>
<p>“Right.” Tai stood and cracked his back. Oh, that was a bad sound. His spine <em> definitely </em>hadn’t made any of those noises twenty years ago. “On second thought, maybe it’s past our bedtime, old man. What do you say.” </p>
<p>After three attempts and a subtle nudge from his person, Zwei rolled off the couch and onto his feet, and barked loudly.</p>
<p>“What?” asked Tai. “Did I forget to…”</p>
<p>He cut himself off. Damn, he was working himself too hard. That hadn’t been Zwei’s “I need to pee, dad” bark in the slightest. </p>
<p>Very casually, he flipped the living room lights off, turned on the patio floodlights, and moved to flank the door.</p>
<p>Someone knocked.</p>
<p>Zwei, who knew exactly how this worked, barked twice more and then retreated around a corner, waiting for a signal. Tai rolled his shoulders, listening hard and thinking harder. It was 10:30 at night; he’d just caught the tail end of the ten o’clock news. He was in the middle of nowhere on a tiny island; in the unlikely event that either of the girls had come home—yet, had come home <em> yet, </em> come home <em> now, </em> they <em> would </em> be home again someday, he had to believe that—they wouldn’t <em> knock. </em> His neighbors or friends would announce themselves, not wait awkwardly on the porch…</p>
<p>So. Trouble, or someone who needed help.</p>
<p>And he could handle either. He flared his Aura once to test it, and opened the door.</p>
<p>“...Hello, Mister Xiao Long, sir,” said a girl he was absolutely certain was dead. “May we...stay here tonight?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Xenia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Xenia (Greek: ξενία, lit. 'guest-friendship'), the ancient Greek sacred rule of hospitality, the generosity and courtesy shown to those who are far from home or associates of the person bestowing guest-friendship.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Okay,” said Mercury. “Are we just <em> not gonna ask </em> why Dad Bod over here has all these pairs of handcuffs?”</p><p>“Shut <em> up,” </em> Emerald hissed.</p><p>Taiyang Xiao Long had taken their appearance in stride, unfortunately. Pyrrha had been deposited on a squishy couch with her back to a wall and clear lines of sight on all the windows and exits. And Em and Merc were disarmed and handcuffed to the radiator. Well, Emerald was disarmed. Obviously he hadn’t <em> stolen Mercury’s legs, </em> but he’d taken all the Dust cartridges out of his boots.</p><p>And Pyrrha was avoiding eye contact, which didn’t bode well for them. Part of Emerald wanted to be annoyed that Mercury had been right, but...well. They kind of deserved it.</p><p>“...want to know is, how are you still alive?” Taiyang said incredulously. His body was turned toward Pyrrha, but he didn’t look away from Mercury and Emerald for a second. Or relax his grip on the shotgun resting across his knees. Which...was also fair. “How the hell did you <em> get </em>here?”</p><p>
  <em> Jumped out of an airship, hiked barefoot across a decent chunk of Vytal to try to ditch the serial killer who may or may not be following us, tried to beg passage on a fishing boat, nearly got shot on sight because they assumed we were bandits, I used my Semblance to make a different fishing boat think my charge card was still good. Realized we’d gotten to Patch in the middle of the night with no running ferries, Pyrrha said she knew a guy… </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sorry about that time we framed your daughter for assault and made her look like an unstable lunatic in front of the whole planet? </em>
</p><p>Emerald decided to keep her mouth shut and hoped Pyrrha could make it sound less insane. She wasn’t a huge fan of the idea that their safety depended on Pyrrha’s eloquence. Over the three-day boat ride from Vytal, Emerald had never actually seen her <em> sleep. </em> She took...catnaps, in the occasional ninety-minute burst, but Emerald had only caught her at it maybe twice.</p><p>“I…” Pyrrha rubbed weakly at her eyes. “I wish I knew, sir. I couldn’t have escaped without…”</p><p>She gestured toward the pair of them. Emerald tried to look contrite and nonthreatening and like Mercury wasn’t petulantly trying to turn down the heat with his foot. The corgi that had been nipping at their heels since they got through the door barked at him.</p><p>“Mmm.” Taiyang didn’t look impressed. “You probably wouldn’t have been <em> kidnapped </em>without them, either.”</p><p>“Wasn’t <em> our </em>idea,” muttered Mercury.</p><p>Pyrrha winced a little and sighed. “It’s, um...a long story, sir. At Beacon…um...”</p><p>“Whoa, hey.” Taiyang held a hand out and leaned forward a little, which made Emerald <em> just </em> a touch nervous about the shotgun on his lap. “Hang on. I don’t know what I was thinking. Whatever happened, it’s waited seven months, it can wait a few more hours. When was the last time you <em> slept? </em> Or had a hot shower? Yang’s pajamas should fit you well enough.”</p><p>Pyrrha had perked up at the word <em> shower. </em> Emerald—look, her and Merc weren’t gonna be assholes and point it out, but since the answer to that second question was ‘the morning before Beacon fell’, she <em> did </em>reek something awful. “I...yes, thank you.” She hesitated. “Are Yang and Ruby...here?”</p><p>Taiyang’s face fell, eyes sliding away from Pyrrha’s as his grip on the gun tightened. Pyrrha’s expression went blank; Emerald hadn’t thought it was physically possible for Pyrrha to get even <em> more </em>unhealthily pale, but she managed.</p><p>Taiyang glanced back up in time to see Pyrrha’s eyes brim over with horrified tears, and his own eyes widened.</p><p><em> “They’re fine!” </em> he said hastily, actually looking away from Emerald and Mercury entirely to look after her. “I’m so sorry. The last I heard from them, Yang and Ruby were both <em> fine. </em> You just missed Yang by about a week, actually—all of Team RWBY made it through. JNPR too, uh...apparently.” He shook himself. “I saw them a few months back. They were in <em> rough </em>shape about losing you, but all three alive and kicking. They’re just not...here.”</p><p>Pyrrha slumped into the couch, relief so violent that Emerald actually thought she’d passed out for a second. After a long moment she raised shaking hands to cover her face.</p><p>“I thought,” she gasped. “She made me think…they’re in Vale, then?”</p><p>Taiyang hesitated.</p><p>“They’re...look. It’s a long story. We can talk about it in the morning, okay?”</p><p>Pyrrha was visibly about to argue; but she was also visibly too exhausted to try. She’d been running on fumes <em> before </em>Emerald dragged her into an airship; the fact that she was still able to speak at all was more than Emerald would probably be capable of in her position.</p><p>“Upstairs on your left,” Taiyang said gently. “Fresh towels are across the hall.”</p><p>Swaying slightly, Pyrrha got to her feet and made her way upstairs. After a moment, they heard a door open and close.</p><p>Slowly, deliberately, Taiyang stood up, turned his chair to face them, and sat back down again. With the shotgun, still.</p><p>Mercury laughed nervously under his breath.</p><p>“So,” Taiyang said. His expression was completely impassive. “Which of you is the one who messed with Yang’s head?”</p><p>Emerald cleared her throat. “That, uh, that’d be me. Hallucination Semblance. I, um...I’m sorry about that.”</p><p>“Just for the record,” Mercury said, and Emerald prayed Taiyang would shoot him before her so she’d get to see it. “She <em> did </em>actually beat me in that fight! She’s, uh, pretty good. It was pretty even. I mean, Cinder’s plan would have worked with either of us winning but—”</p><p>“Let your friend do the talking,” Taiyang said bluntly. For once, Mercury had the sense to shut the fuck up. “Right,” he continued, looking at Emerald. “So. That girl’s been tortured.”</p><p>Emerald swallowed. “Um...yes. Yes, she has.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that, would you?”</p><p>Emerald thought it over. “Not...directly.”</p><p>Taiyang raised an eyebrow. “So yes, but you feel shitty about it.”</p><p>Emerald stayed quiet and turned her face to the radiator. He was right, of course. Just because Emerald hadn’t left any of the scars on Pyrrha’s body didn’t mean she wasn’t complicit in their being there. She’d...taken too long to accept that, she'd taken to long to accept a <em>lot </em>of things, and Pyrrha had paid the price for her denial.</p><p>After a moment of awkward silence, Taiyang sighed. “Look, I’m not looking for...vengeance, or whatever. I just want to make sure you both know that if either of you try anything <em> funny, </em> or if I start <em> seeing things, </em> then I’m kicking your asses and calling the cops. The only reason I <em> haven’t </em>yet is because I’m pretty sure it would make Pyrrha upset. Got it?”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” Emerald squeaked.</p><p>“You got it, boss,” Mercury said, and Emerald kicked at him to shut him up.</p><p>“Thought so.” Something visibly occurred to him. “I should make soup while Pyrrha’s in the shower, she must be starving…”</p><p>“Soup’s good,” Mercury said, and Emerald kicked him again.</p><p>“It’s not for <em> us, </em>idiot,” she muttered.</p><p>“Oh, come on! I’m not starving a couple of kids,” Taiyang said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re gonna answer a <em> lot </em> of questions tonight, but there’s no reason you can’t do that over soup. Won’t be anything special, though, all I’ve got is canned. I haven’t been able to get to the store much since <em> someone </em>sicced a bunch of Grimm on Vale.”</p><p>Emerald stared at him. “Don’t you...hate us?”</p><p>He snorted. “Well, <em> yeah, </em> but what’s that got to do with it? I’d like to think I’m a better host than <em> Salem, </em>thanks. Zwei, keep an eye on those two.”</p><p>Emerald went very, very still. So did Mercury.</p><p>“Now that I mention it,” Taiyang continued, apparently oblivious to the fact that it was <em>weird </em>that he, a random dad living in the woods, was casually on a first-name basis with the Queen of the Grimm. “As far as I’m aware, <em>she </em>isn’t really prone to...taking prisoners. Unless Pyrrha ended up as the Fall Maiden after all...though that’s not an explanation either, if anything that’s just <em>more </em>reason for Salem to—”</p><p><em> “Dude,” </em>interrupted Mercury, and for once Emerald couldn’t even blame him.</p><p>Her own voice came out in a horribly embarrassing squeak. <em> “How do you know about Salem?!” </em></p>
<hr/><p>Pyrrha locked the bathroom door behind her.</p><p>She wasn’t sure how long it was before she was able to move again, after that.</p><p>It was so— </p><p>It was so simple, the <em> muscle memory </em> of it, just...turning the thin lock. Neither the lock nor the door was strong enough to hold up to any force; all this would accomplish is prevent someone opening the door by accident. But the lock was—on the inside. And it wouldn’t have to hold up to—</p><p>Wasn’t designed. Wasn’t <em> designed or expected </em> to hold up to an actual attack. This was not the time or place to tempt fate.</p><p>The overhead lights were blinding, an unnatural, searing white. Yang and Ruby’s father had gone with warm yellow bulbs that shouldn’t have been so painful, but it had been a long time.</p><p>There was a mirror over the sink. She couldn’t avoid looking at it any longer.</p><p>Well. She understood Mr. Xiao Long’s reaction, now. If a girl who looked that close to dropping dead at any moment turned up at <em> her </em>door, Pyrrha would also be alarmed.</p><p>She <em> wanted </em> a hot shower more than almost anything in the world, but it suddenly felt as if the process of getting one would be too much. Their entire escape from Evernight had been easier than <em> this. </em></p><p>But there was nothing else for it. <em> Don’t think. Just do it. </em></p><p>If she gave herself the time to take a deep breath first, she would freeze again. Pyrrha pulled Mercury’s borrowed sweatshirt over her head in a single rapid movement, before she had time to think.</p><p>There. That was fine. That was <em> fine. </em>The world hadn’t ended, had it?</p><p>Somehow the scars looked worse in the mirror than when she looked down at herself. Maybe it was the lighting, or the change in perspective, or—or the fact that she normally couldn’t see her own sternum, that if she tried hard enough and never looked too closely she could pretend—</p><p>Feeling sick, Pyrrha checked the lock on the door again to have something to do. She turned around without looking in the mirror, and kicked off Mercury’s pants without looking down. After a moment, feeling her heart pound with more than exhausted overworking, she gathered the clothes up and shoved them into the cabinet under the sink, far in the back. Her sudden spike of fear subsided, a little.</p><p>It was unfair. But she no longer had the energy to feel guilty over it. If Taiyang Xiao Long was where Yang and Ruby had learned compassion, then Pyrrha was certain he would understand.</p><p>She was able to distract herself for a good five minutes trying to figure out how the taps worked. While she waited for the water to heat, she reached up and instinctively took her hair out of its ponytail.</p><p>A wave of visceral revulsion hit her like Deathstalker venom, freezing her in place, turning her blood wrong.</p><p>Fingers curled in her hair, brushing it, petting it, fisting in it to wrench her head back—</p><p>She still had her hair gathered in one hand. The idea of washing it all, combing it out—no. No. Absolutely not. Not today. Maybe never again. She opened the cabinet and rummaged through, raw panic hot in her ears. It only took her a moment to find a razor.</p><p>It wasn’t the clean cut she’d vaguely intended; this was a shaving razor and she was trying to pull it through several inches of thick hair with a lot of slack. A few more passes, however, were enough. </p><p>Seeing herself in the mirror now was a much weirder sight. Pyrrha hadn’t had hair this short since...ever, really. Tentatively, she reached up to brush her fingers through the tips of it.</p><p>A short, bizarre giggle escaped her.</p><p>“Oh, Cinder would <em> hate </em> this,” she said out loud, and giggled some more. Cinder wasn’t here. She wasn’t <em> here. </em> It didn’t <em> matter </em> what she wanted. “I’m sorry, did I ruin your perfect little <em> trophy?” </em></p><p>This time, not even the sight of Cinder’s handiwork could stop her laughing.</p>
<hr/><p>A heavy tread coming down the hallway—that was Mercury.</p><p>The door opening without any sound before that—that was Emerald.</p><p>She was...well, not <em> okay </em> with seeing Emerald and Mercury, she felt furious and hurt and <em> betrayed </em>by Emerald in particular—she'd thought they were <em>friends—</em>but when they came they brought her water, and changed out her bucket, and sometimes there was even something that passed as food. They hadn’t engaged in conversation with her yet no matter how much she tried, but at least they’d also avoid looking at her directly.</p><p>Pyrrha didn’t have much appreciation for any of her captors, but she’d quickly learned the other two were infinitely preferable to what she heard now: a faint glass <em> clicking </em>that grew steadily louder as it came toward her.</p><p>Pyrrha took a deep breath, straightened her back, and tried to steady herself. At the very least, she tried not to favor her bandaged right arm too obviously. Healing without the benefit of an active Aura was...not an experience she was enjoying.</p><p>A key turned in the lock, and Pyrrha very carefully didn’t move as Cinder let herself in.</p><p>She was smiling. That was <em> never </em>a good sign.</p><p>“Hello darling,” Cinder greeted her. “Come now, let’s get you ready. It will make a very bad first impression if you’re late.”</p><p>Pyrrha glanced at the dark red fabric draped over Cinder’s arm, a warning spike of adrenaline searing up her spine. “I’m sorry?”</p><p>“Don’t you know?” asked Cinder, with faux surprise that Pyrrha somehow managed petty indignation over. <em> Don’t you know. </em> How was she supposed to have found out, checking her voicemail? She must have lost that invitation in her <em> massive pile of correspondence. </em> “We’re going on a walk today.”</p><p>Her barely-healed ankle twinged at the thought, but even if Pyrrha had the ability to refuse she wouldn’t have passed up an opportunity to get out of this cell. Without any windows she couldn’t tell how long she’d been down here, exactly; but her best estimate said it had to have been nearly two weeks of nothing but the same four blank walls, and the cabin fever had become unbearable after half that time.</p><p>And once she wasn’t behind a locked door, it wouldn’t matter that her Aura was disabled. Any reconnaissance was useful; she might not be able to fight Cinder, but someday she would get a chance to break free. She needed to find out where they were, at least make a guess. Then she could form some kind of plan…</p><p>Cinder snapped her fingers, once, getting Pyrrha’s attention back.</p><p>“You need to be <em> presentable, </em> dear,” she drawled. “Civilized people have standards. Now I’m going to take this off,” she added, tapping the shackle around Pyrrha’s wrist. “Because I know you’re not foolish enough to try anything you’ll <em> regret.” </em></p><p>Underneath the bandages on her bicep, the gifts of Cinder’s last visit throbbed dully.</p><p>Pyrrha glared impotently at her, but—and this was galling to admit—Cinder wasn’t wrong. So she stood up without arguing and waited as Cinder unlocked each manacle, one by one. Took her time about it.</p><p>Desperately, fruitlessly, she reached for her Semblance. <em>Come on,</em> she pleaded at nothing. Come<em> on.</em> <em>Anything, </em>a twitch, a whisper. She was <em>surrounded </em>by metal—by <em>her </em>metal, her oldest friends, it was a <em>part </em>of her, forged by her hand and her soul, why wouldn’t it <em>answer</em>—</p><p>“Good girl,” Cinder said, kneeling at Pyrrha’s feet as she took the last restraint off—not actually removing the cuffs, just taking them off of the chains. Of course that had been too much to hope for. She gave Pyrrha’s formerly-injured ankle an experimental poke, right over the scar. “This doesn’t hurt, does it?”</p><p>Truth be told, it <em> was </em>still a little tender, but she wasn’t about to admit that. “Not really,” Pyrrha said irritably. “Where are you taking me?”</p><p>Cinder snorted a little as she stood up, but she didn’t respond yet. She just removed the fabric from her arm—a short dress, red with gold threading, enough like Cinder’s usual outfits that Pyrrha was sure it was one of hers—and pulled it over Pyrrha’s head. Pyrrha hated thinking of her movement as <em> obedient </em>as she put her arms through the sleeveless holes, but...she really, desperately wanted to be wearing something, was the simple truth.</p><p>Cinder took a step back and gave an appreciative hum that made Pyrrha clench her teeth. “Where do you think?”</p><p>“I don’t even know where we <em> are.” </em></p><p>Cinder gave a little laugh, clipping Pyrrha’s wrist cuffs together behind her back. “Really? After all this time to think, you still haven’t worked it out? And here you were meant to be observant.”</p><p>“I’ve been in a featureless room the entire time. There aren’t exactly a lot of clues.”</p><p>“Think harder, dear,” was all Cinder said, before placing a hand on the back of Pyrrha’s neck—making the delicate hairs prickle painfully and stand on end, but not hurting her, not this time—and guiding her out of the cell.</p><p>The lighting in the cell was dim; outside the cell, it was functionally nonexistent. Nothing but black stone, rough beneath her bare feet, simultaneously too cold and warm in a way that felt...disturbing. Her attempts to see into the other cells were cut off by a warning fingernail digging into the skin just beside her spine.</p><p>Cinder slipped two fingers through the ring of—the collar, taking the lead and tugging Pyrrha after her up the staircase. It was steep and tight, a right-hand spiral, built for fighting a defense against anyone trying to come up from the cells. Pyrrha glanced around her, keeping mental notes as she was pulled along. The exit from the dungeon opened into a jarringly unexceptional palace corridor, except that once again there were very few windows and none Pyrrha could get close enough to see clearly out of. Mostly she had views of the soupy red sky, so at least she finally had a reference for the time of day.</p><p>They’d clearly come up from underground, and Pyrrha’s only hint at what was outside was a single glimpse of a jagged stone structure before she was pulled down the next corridor and around a corner. All right then. Where would Cinder’s base of operations be? </p><p>What would Oobleck say about educated guesses? Or Professor Ozpin? <em> Knowledge is your greatest weapon. Use it. You always know more than you think you do. </em></p><p>An attack like Cinder had made on the Vytal Festival couldn’t be planned overnight. She had clearly been in league with the White Fang—and Pyrrha spared a moment, as she was yanked over an ancient and unfamiliar sigil that looked vaguely like an eye, to ache for the faunus of Vale. Splinter factions of the Fang had always existed, Blake had been trapped in one, but not like <em> this, </em> and it would tar the whole movement, and for <em> what— </em></p><p>Her plan had been to bring a horde of Grimm down on Beacon, and she’d clearly been in the process of importing as many as she could in preparation, which meant—</p><p>“Mountain Glenn,” she finally guessed. “We’re in Mountain Glenn.”</p><p>Cinder stopped, yanking Pyrrha to a standstill. Cinder’s eyes flickered, calculating, as she visibly worked out Pyrrha’s train of thought.</p><p>Finally, she hummed thoughtfully, and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “That’s a <em> very </em>good guess, dear,” she said, placing her hand on the back of Pyrrha’s neck again and propelling her forward suddenly enough that she nearly tripped over her own feet. </p><p>There was a large set of double doors ahead, up a short set of steps, and Cinder paused just before the threshold.</p><p>Lips at Pyrrha’s ear, she whispered: “How <em> adorable, </em> that you still think you’re somewhere you can run away from.”</p><p>The doors opened.</p><p>The glass-lined hall that opened up before them could almost have been beautiful, if not for the fact that it wasn’t. The red-purple light that filled the room was, realistically, barely enough to see by; but it was still more natural light than Pyrrha had seen since Beacon. The architecture of the room was stunning and elegant, no expenses spared in the intricate glasswork, and the furnishings were a sleek, simple ebony. Nothing overstated, nothing overdone.</p><p>It was almost more a greenhouse than a dining hall, a rounded rectangle of perfect views, elevated high above the surrounding landscape to provide miles of visibility.</p><p>Stunning, three hundred and sixty degree views of utter hell.</p><p>The sky ran like blood around a too-bright moon. The jagged shapes Pyrrha had taken for broken buildings were like that <em> naturally, </em> tortured spires of rock reaching for nothing. Movement she at first took for low, dark bushes blowing in the wind—at first her brain refused to <em> comprehend </em>the idea of that many Grimm, milling about this close to an occupied building, doing nothing but...waiting. The earth itself was nothing but a wine-dark sea of bare rock, chunks of dim violet Dust speckling the landscape, and endless black pools too still to be water.</p><p>The deadlands, the dark country, the cursed continent. The setting of all the darkest and oldest fairy tales, the ones Pyrrha read to herself under the covers, scaring herself as a child with a library book her mother thought she was too young for. The dark region so hostile to life that every attempt in history to settle its marginally habitable southern shore had ended in blood and horror.</p><p>“Care to guess again?” murmured Cinder.</p><p>Too horrified to cling to her pride, Pyrrha breathed, <em> “Evernight.” </em></p><p>That wasn’t possible. <em> Nothing </em> could <em> live </em> here, certainly not a human—that Cinder had been ignored by the Grimm during the Fall, when she alone was smug and satisfied amid a sea of terror, was one thing; but there were hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of Grimm of every description out on those plains. How had the Grimm, who fed on <em> cruelty </em> just as readily as pain, not turned on her? How had they not come for <em> Pyrrha, </em> for her fear and despair?</p><p>Behind her, Cinder cleared her throat.</p><p>Pyrrha had been so enraptured in horror by the vista that she hadn’t noticed the figure standing at the far end, looking out over the horizon with her hands clasped behind her. Pale, cloaked in black, white hair put up into an elaborate, jeweled hairstyle—</p><p>Then the woman turned, slow and deliberate, and Pyrrha finally understood.</p><p>She was going to die here.</p><p>It occurred to her, in a detached sort of way, that she should be afraid of those burning red eyes. But she couldn’t summon up so much as an ounce of fear. What would be the point? A fight-or-flight response was a defense mechanism, something to keep you alive in the face of danger, but Pyrrha at once knew the figure before her was a being of such ancient and terrible power that <em> fearing </em>her would be a waste of energy. Whether she lived or died now, there was nothing she could do about it, it was entirely up to the whim of…</p><p>“Ah,” the woman said, in a voice far too <em> normal </em>for her appearance. “A pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Nikos.”</p><p>Pyrrha was only conscious of taking a step back when she collided with Cinder behind her. She couldn’t even make herself be revolted by pressing against her tormentor, because Cinder—Cinder was <em> nothing, </em> she knew now.</p><p>“Thank you for bringing her, Cinder,” the woman continued. “You may wait outside now.”</p><p>
  <em> “What?!” </em>
</p><p>Pyrrha discovered that even facing a figure of abject nightmare, she was still able to wince as Cinder’s grip on her neck tightened.</p><p>The—woman, the being, the Grimm in human form, or was it the other way around?—didn’t take offense to Cinder’s outburst. She just raised one eyebrow, very slightly, in mild surprise that Cinder had expected anything different.</p><p>Pyrrha <em> felt </em>Cinder remember herself. She dug her nails into Pyrrha’s neck—intentionally this time—before giving a stiff bow.</p><p>“Of course,” she said, and did a very poor job of containing her irritation. Without another word, she turned and stalked out of the glass hall, drawing the double doors closed behind her.</p><p><em> Don’t leave me, </em>Pyrrha thought, wildly, irrationally. Cinder was the furthest thing possible from a protector, a source of comfort, but every fiber of Pyrrha’s being rebelled against the idea of being alone with—</p><p>“Please,” the woman said, gesturing at a seat by the head of the table, “take a seat.”</p><p>Pyrrha couldn’t twitch a muscle.</p><p>After a moment the woman laughed a little under her breath, actually looking <em> embarrassed. </em>“Of course. My apologies.” She gave a careless wave of her hand, and there was a loud clang as Pyrrha’s manacles dropped off her wrists to the floor.</p><p>Pyrrha swallowed heavily, brought her hands up in front of her chest, rubbed her chafed wrists. “And...what may I call you?”</p><p>The woman’s smile almost looked pained. “Your courtesy is noted,” she said. “It speaks well of you, Miss Nikos. I don’t believe there’s any need for...unnecessary formalities between us, given the circumstances. To you, my name is Salem.”</p><p>“...Right,” said Pyrrha softly. “Thank...you?”</p><p>Salem gave a weary sigh.</p><p>“Come,” she said, and pulled out the chair at her right hand as she took a seat at the head of the table. “I would like to speak with you.”</p><p>The thought of heroic defiance never crossed Pyrrha’s mind. There was nothing to gained by it, at least not yet. And her ankle wasn’t healed enough, yet, to support her weight standing for this long.</p><p>She limped slowly along the table, and settled on the edge of her seat as far from Salem as possible. Salem had to notice, but didn’t seem to mind.</p><p>The moment Pyrrha sat down, the double doors opened again and she nearly leapt back out of her seat. The floating jellyfish-like Grimm was nothing she’d ever seen before, not even in textbooks, not even in <em> fairy tales. </em> And it was, bizarrely, pushing a covered steel cart.</p><p>Salem waved a hand as it approached them, placing a hand on Pyrrha’s shoulder to gently keep her in her seat as she stood. The Grimm...floated away again, as if it had been...dismissed…</p><p>Pyrrha looked between them, uncomprehending and yet somehow unsurprised.</p><p>“You...command them.”</p><p>Salem looked down at her with vague pity. “Yes.”</p><p>A lot of things made sense now. It wasn’t Cinder who controlled the Grimm, after all. It wasn’t Cinder who’d discovered some obscene new power, who’d...made Beacon possible.</p><p><em> You’re going to die here. </em>The realization struck her again, even clearer this time. It might not be today. It probably wouldn’t be today, even. But the only escape she would ever find from this place was death. What she was seeing, what she was learning...surely no one could be allowed to live to tell this tale.</p><p>“Oh,” said Pyrrha. There didn’t seem to be much else to say.</p><p>Salem left the silence unbroken as she calmly set out the contents of the dinner cart. Pyrrha felt vaguely as if she should be helping, but…</p><p>Cool fingers stopped her as she tried reflexively to take a carafe of ice water from Salem’s hands.</p><p>“That’s not necessary,” she murmured. “You’re a guest.”</p><p>Pyrrha took several seconds to be certain her voice was very, very polite.</p><p>“That...is not the word I would have used.”</p><p>Salem had the grace to sigh. “Tonight,” she corrected. “In this room, in my presence, Pyrrha Nikos, you are to be considered a guest.”</p><p>Pyrrha did not like hearing her name from this woman’s lips.</p><p>Table set to her satisfaction, Salem sat quietly at the head of the table, resting her chin on lightly steepled fingers.</p><p>Pyrrha stared at the steaming white fish and vegetables plated exquisitely in front of her. At least, it looked like fish. Her stomach stirred in the hope that it might be fish. But Pyrrha was thinking of fairy stories, of cautionary tales, of cursed food and eternal bondage and the dark glee of grinning villains as they revealed what was <em> really </em>in that delicious pork stew...</p><p>“It’s better when it’s warm,” Salem commented, voice mild.</p><p>Pyrrha picked up her fork on reflex before her common sense caught up to her.</p><p>“...Why did you have me brought here?” she asked.</p><p>“That depends on what you mean by <em> here, </em> Miss Nikos,” Salem responded. Her tone was eerie in its mundanity, a calm, matter-of-fact answer that made Pyrrha’s spine prickle. “If you refer to your being taken prisoner in the first place...that, I’m afraid, is Cinder’s affair alone. I permit her the indulgence in recognition of her service to me, and her accomplishment in the Fall of Beacon. You yourself bear no importance to my plans. It brings me no pleasure to tell you that truth; but in your situation, Miss Nikos, a comforting lie is not a kindness.”</p><p>Pyrrha did not feel inclined to thank her for her consideration.</p><p>Salem acknowledged this with a half-nod and a sip of something dark red that Pyrrha fervently prayed was wine.</p><p>“As for the pleasure of your company,” said Salem, with a slightly wry tone that was <em> entirely </em>too normal for what appeared to be some sort of primordial goddess of darkness. “A passing interest, child. Nothing more. I allowed this fate to fall on you; you deserve for me to look you in the eye, at least. Yet another pawn, sacrificed in service to the greater game.”</p><p>Pyrrha’s jaw tensed.</p><p>
  <em> “Game?” </em>
</p><p>Salem raised an eyebrow, as she had to Cinder. Pyrrha glared back at her.</p><p>If she expected that to make Salem angry, she was mistaken. The woman set her wine glass aside and met Pyrrha’s gaze, vaguely pitying. “He never told you about me,” she said. “Did he? You were poorly used. I won’t <em> slander </em>Ozpin, Pyrrha Nikos. Your death is not a calculation he would make lightly. But it was not unintended. You regret the loss of a chess piece; you do not mourn it.”</p><p>“And Cinder is just another of your pawns, then?”</p><p>“Mmm,” said Salem, with an expression on her face that made Pyrrha suspect Cinder was probably listening outside the double doors. “Cinder is my champion, as Ozpin made you his...<em> this </em> round.”</p><p>Pyrrha lifted her chin.</p><p>“And if Cinder had died,” she said, the certainty of her death here making her bold. “Would you have mourned her? Is your champion the lynchpin in all your designs? Unlike Ozpin, who was only <em> using </em> me when he tried to give me the tools to stop her? To protect Vale? From <em> you?” </em></p><p>For a long moment, Salem’s expression was carefully still.</p><p>Finally, slowly, she smiled and inclined her head, silently conceding the point. “So <em> that </em>is what he saw in you.”</p><p>There was...something. Something about the way she was talking. It struck a wrong chord, it was too familiar, too casual…</p><p>“You…” Pyrrha swallowed. “You talk about Professor Ozpin...as if you knew him <em> personally.” </em></p><p>Salem gave an undignified snort, poured herself another full glass of wine, and tossed it back like a shot.</p><p>“That would be one way to phrase it,” she allowed. “Child...I know more of the man you call Ozpin than anyone else now living. You are not the first noble young warrior he’s pinned all his desperate hope on. You will not be the last.”</p><p>Pyrrha hesitated. “He’s dead. Cinder killed him.”</p><p>Salem rolled her eyes at some private irritation; it didn’t seem directed at Pyrrha at all.</p><p>“For now,” she replied. <em> “Dear </em> Ozpin can no more die in truth than I can, I’m afraid. Unlike the little armies he gathers to himself with half-truths and pretty words...before sending them earnest and unknowing to their deaths.”</p><p>“It was <em> my </em> decision,” Pyrrha snapped, stupidly; but she did <em> not </em> like the way this woman kept talking about her death as if she weren’t alive and sitting three feet away from her—and it was easier to focus on than the things she said about Ozpin. “When Cinder—killed him. There was no one close enough to act who stood any chance at all. Someone had to stop her. Someone had to <em> try.” </em></p><p>There was no mistaking the sadness in Salem’s eyes this time.</p><p>“Oh, brave girl,” she sighed. “You knew what you faced. Ozpin always was so predictable in his champions. Brave and true and foolish with it, so willing to sacrifice yourselves and never even knowing why...you earned your hero’s death, Pyrrha Nikos. You do not deserve what Cinder will do to you in the end.”</p><p>“You could stop her,” Pyrrha said flatly. She didn’t want to think about the certainty in Salem’s voice, or what Cinder’s ultimate plans for her might be.</p><p>“Yes.” The response was frank. “I could.”</p><p>Somehow that...was nearly comforting. Cinder was all honeyed manipulation; there was something reassuring about Salem’s calmly unflinching acknowledgement that she did not intend to intercede on Pyrrha’s behalf. That Cinder’s loyalty, the <em> indulgence </em>that kept her happy and satisfied in Salem’s service, was simply of more value to her than ending Pyrrha’s suffering.</p><p>It wasn’t a surprise; Pyrrha hadn’t expected more. At least this time she knew where she stood.</p><p>“I recommend you eat, Miss Nikos,” Salem told her, nearly compassionate. “I can see you’ve already been acquainted with Cinder’s...vindictive streak. She will not easily forgive your being removed from her power, even briefly.”</p><p>Pyrrha regarded her for a long moment, and silently took a bite of fish.</p><p>It was delicious, but part of her couldn’t help thinking of it as a last meal.</p><p>Salem just watched her, chin resting on her intertwined fingers.</p><p>“I am glad I was able to make your acquaintance,” she said, quiet. “Ozpin chooses his champions well, as a rule. There is always a spark, something to set them apart. Courage, skill, compassion. I respect these things. I wanted a chance to see you as you are—while you still possess those qualities.” </p><p>For some reason Pyrrha did not have much of an appetite. Mechanically, she forced herself to keep eating. Salem was many things—but she wasn’t wrong about Cinder’s willingness to starve a prisoner.</p><p>“Your best hope is to break quickly,” Salem told her, in the mild, kindhearted tones of an academic advisor recommending a courseload for a student they both knew was going to fail the year. “She will not allow you to die; if that was her desire she would have killed you at Beacon, but it seems nothing less than reducing you to an empty shell will satisfy her. You’ll fight it, of course. That too is something I respect.”</p><p>She glanced out the window, at the position of the sundered moon.</p><p>“We will not meet again, Miss Nikos,” said Salem. “If we do, I do not believe either of us will recognize the woman you will have become. I can give you fifteen minutes; then I’m afraid I have more urgent priorities. I do hope you’ll forgive me.”</p><p>Pyrrha swallowed heavily, and her fork shook as she lowered it again.</p><p>“No,” she said quietly. “I don’t believe I will.”</p><p>Salem smiled. “Good.”</p>
<hr/><p>Pyrrha eventually turned off the hot water solely because she was afraid that she would fall asleep in the shower.</p><p>Her skin felt scrubbed raw, and if she wasn’t too bone-tired to feel anything anymore she would have reveled in it. It would be a long time before she felt like she’d even begun to scour Cinder’s touch from her body; but this was a start. And besides. It felt <em> good. </em> It was as simple as that. She’d put three rounds of what had to be Yang’s shampoo through her newly-shorn hair and it felt good. She'd carefully peeled off the bandages over her ribs while she showered, too, and still couldn't quite believe how cleanly Cinder's last cuts had healed. She'd...forgotten, almost, what Aura-assisted healing was like. There was hardly even a scar this time.</p><p>After a long moment, Pyrrha got to her feet; she was nowhere near trusting her balance right now, especially not on a wet surface, and there was no dignity for her to salvage, so she might as well shower sitting down.</p><p>There was a knock on the door.</p><p>All of Pyrrha’s efforts to not get overconfident and split her skull open in Taiyang Xiao Long’s shower were very nearly wasted, as she jumped nearly a foot in the air while dripping wet and balanced halfway onto a bath mat.</p><p>Even through her wild panic there was something absurd about that. A <em> bath mat. </em> Put on the floor so that her <em> feet wouldn’t get cold </em> stepping out of the shower.</p><p>How did something so unspeakably simple feel so alien?</p><p>“Hey, kid,” Taiyang called from the other side of the door. “I heard the water shut off. I’m gonna leave some of Yang’s pajamas outside the door for you, okay? Come downstairs when you’re ready.”</p><p>The pajamas, when Pyrrha had listened carefully and was absolutely certain she was alone again—enough to crack open the door and grab them—<em> definitely </em> belonged to Yang. It was a simple, oversized yellow t-shirt with a cartoon hot pepper on the front, wearing sunglasses and riding a skateboard; and soft grey sweatpants patterned with the image of wagon wheels.</p><p>And a set of pale yellow fuzzy socks, which Pyrrha put on with shaking hands while trying to decide if their inclusion made her want to laugh or cry.</p><p>The warmth and feeling of release from her shower had washed away the last of the raw adrenaline keeping her upright; but she made her way downstairs regardless, because it would be rude not to. And also because she wasn’t certain where Taiyang wanted her to sleep.</p><p>Emerald and Mercury were still handcuffed to the radiator, but only by one wrist now, and they each held large steaming mugs in their other hand. Mercury held his awkwardly above his head as much as he was able, hissing as Zwei tried to climb his chest to lap up whatever was in the mug.</p><p>Taiyang, still watching them closely and making no attempt to call off his dog, stood up when Pyrrha appeared at the top of the stairs.</p><p>“Hey,” he said, offering her an elbow to cross to the kitchen table. She was bleary-eyed and exhausted enough to accept. “We’re gonna get you to bed in a minute, kid. But you gotta eat something first.” He gave a little half-grin, but his voice wasn’t nearly light enough to disguise his concern as he added, “You’re freaking me out a little.”</p><p>He’d been kind enough not to mention her hair, or the scars exposed by her short sleeves, which he had to have noticed even as he was visibly trying not to look.</p><p>Pyrrha’s reflexive half-whispered apology faded into nothing as her brain finally made sense of the bowl he’d set in front of her.</p><p>Dimly, she realized her body had remembered how to cry, just a little.</p><p>It wasn’t even...it wasn’t even <em> good </em>egg drop soup, objectively, she thought, raising a badly-trembling spoon to her lips. But she didn’t have the energy to be objective anymore. At some point in the distant past, she might have privately described this as bland. Unseasoned chicken broth; broad, squishy, slightly overcooked noodles…</p><p>The noise she made was nothing short of <em> broken. </em></p><p>“I figured, let’s not do anything fancy on that kind of empty stomach,” said Taiyang, watching her burn her tongue on the first real food she’d eaten in seven months. She had forgotten that food could taste good, that it could bring comfort, chase away the shadows like this. “Get you some carbs, some protein…some, uh, any blood sugar at all.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Pyrrha breathed, nudging another wide, flat noodle onto her spoon. Her hands were already starting to shake slightly less, now that her body had some kind of fuel other than trying to metabolize raw cortisol. And she felt better able to...think. She could actually <em> feel </em>neurons starting to fire that weren’t primal dread and survival instinct.</p><p>She didn’t feel <em> less </em> afraid, beneath the crushing exhaustion. But she was remembering how to feel other things at the same time. Warm and dry and clean, with a full stomach and <em> someone </em>in less than a five hundred mile radius who was on her side. She was still terrified, but the terror had fewer teeth. She felt nearly human.</p><p>Pyrrha took a deep, steadying breath. “Mister Xiao Long, <em> where </em>is my team?”</p><p>Taiyang sighed, but there was understanding in his eyes—of course there was, he was a Huntsman, he’d had a team, he <em> understood. </em> “They were headed to Haven with Ruby,” he said. “Following the trail of <em> those </em>two. That was...back just before the new year. I don’t know if they’ve made it yet, civilian air traffic is grounded so they had to go on foot. But that’s where they were headed.”</p><p>Pyrrha’s shoulders relaxed infinitesimally. She ached to her very bones with the loss—she’d spent everything she had left, and then some, just to get this far in the desperate hope that if she could just get back to Vale, find Ren and Nora and Jaune, everything would somehow be okay again. </p><p>But any answer was better than not knowing at all. She stared blankly into the remains of her soup. She would just...have to keep going. She knew where to look, and that was better than nothing...</p><p>“All right.” Pyrrha blinked, jerking slightly; she hadn’t noticed herself swaying until Taiyang’s voice jolted her awake again. He stood and held out an arm again; not a hand, and when Pyrrha was more alive than she was at the moment maybe she would understand why that felt significant. “Come on, hon. Let’s get you to bed.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You may note the number of predicted chapters has increased. This was fairly inevitable.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Aeolus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The gifts of the wind god.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pyrrha woke slowly, at first—then in a rush, every sense jolting back to hyperawareness all at once.</p><p>She scrambled upright, looking around with her heart racing in her ears—she was alone. Cinder wasn’t there.</p><p>...Of course Cinder wasn’t there, Pyrrha was sleeping in Ruby’s bed, warm and comfortable and...safe, allegedly. Her cell in Evernight had been chilly; she’d only woken up <em> warm </em>when...</p><p>Pyrrha took a deep breath and leaned forward to put her face in her hands. She was okay. She was okay. She <em> was </em>safe...for now.</p><p>Breathing deeply as her heartrate began to settle, Pyrrha rubbed the crust away from her eyes and did her best to take stock of the situation. She’d managed to kick off one of her borrowed socks overnight. In the near-blackness of Yang and Ruby’s bedroom she could make out the shapes of posters on the walls, bookshelves, knicknacks on the dressers—little personal items that no one would bring on a field mission.</p><p>Her head felt like someone had stuffed it full of wet cotton; she braced for twelve hours of a splitting headache, before she remembered with disorienting suddenness that she could just ask Taiyang for an aspirin.</p><p>Every muscle in her body ached; but for the first time in seven months she felt the thrum of living light under her skin, the reassuring whisper of a replenished Aura. </p><p>She’d forgotten what that felt like. It had been so long…</p><p>Reflexively, she touched both wrists, brushed fingers over her neck. Sat up. Pulled her feet under her. She felt...an odd kind of vertigo at being unrestrained, now that she’d slept enough to feel anything but crushing exhaustion. Like she might float away, fall off the world at any moment. It wasn’t...unpleasant. Just unfamiliar.</p><p>Pyrrha rolled her neck, taking a few moments before she swung her feet over the edge of the bed. She kicked a slightly battered stuffed wolf off the bed in the process.</p><p>Before she could think about it, Pyrrha felt her lips twitch slightly.</p><p>“I’m very sorry,” she whispered, picking the stuffed animal off the floor and petting its head in apology before returning it to the foot of the bed.</p><p>Her spine made an alarming series of noises as she stretched; it felt <em> good, </em> though.</p><p>What time…? It was pitch dark in here, was it too early to be— </p><p>Her heart leapt into her throat. She went still, suddenly struggling to listen through the pounding in her ears. <em> Had something woken her up? </em></p><p>If anything had happened to Yang and Ruby’s father—she was so <em> stupid, </em> they <em> knew </em> Tyrian Callows was looking for them, they knew they might be followed, if <em> anything </em>had happened it was Pyrrha’s fault for bringing them here.</p><p>She edged toward the window, intending to peer out and see if there was movement outside the house. Belatedly, she realized that while the bedroom itself was dark, there was bright light glowing around the edges of the window.</p><p>Blackout shutters—Grimm shutters, she realized, now that she knew what she was looking for. Reinforced metal, locked from the inside, drawn over the windows from the outside to protect them. Blocking out all light was a convenient side effect. Taiyang must have sealed them for her while she was in the shower last night, rather than have her sleep beside an unprotected window…</p><p>Fingers clumsy with sleep—but steady, no longer trembling from exhaustion and hunger—Pyrrha unlocked the shutters, pushed them open, and nearly blinded herself on the spot.</p><p>It...well. It was <em> definitely </em>not too early to be awake.</p><p>Pyrrha blinked until her eyes stopped watering, watching afternoon sunlight play through the leaves of the woodland surrounding Ruby and Yang’s childhood home. It was...beautiful. She could so easily picture them both growing up here, chasing one another through the woods, playing in the long grass with their dog. Standing in this same window, watching the sun rise, talking about their plans to defend the world from a threat none of them had fully understood…</p><p>She frowned.</p><p><em> Watching the sun rise </em> was all well and good, but as Pyrrha had abruptly realized, this was not an east-facing window.</p><p>“It is possible,” she said to Ruby’s stuffed wolf, “that I...may have overslept.”</p><p>She came downstairs to find Emerald and Mercury sitting on the floor in the living room with rumpled sleeping bags nearby, both wearing handcuffs attached to the radiator by a generous length of bungee cords and duct tape. There was some kind of brightly colored board game set up between them. </p><p>Mercury waved at her. </p><p>“Oh hey! You’re alive.”</p><p>“I think I’m going to be getting that a lot,” Pyrrha said with a sigh.</p><p>Taiyang stuck his head through the doorway. “You’re awake! Good. You, uh, missed breakfast. And lunch. I was actually just about to get started on dinner. Once you’re all a little more stable I’ve got some ribs I’ve been saving, but uh...not yet. That’ll be a little much for you right now.”</p><p>Pyrrha, whose stomach still felt tender from the extremely mild soup she’d been given...she checked the time and winced...nearly eighteen hours ago, could not disagree.</p><p>“You’ve <em> gotta </em> be hungry again.” Taiyang shuffled inside, setting down a box of tools and rubbing his hands together. “Anything specific you feel like? I made pancakes for breakfast already, but you haven’t had any...those two can <em> deal </em>with eating the same thing twice.”</p><p>“He makes good pancakes,” commented Mercury. “Wouldn’t give me whipped cream though. Three stars.”</p><p>“Hey,” said Taiyang. “That’s <em> way </em>too much sugar with breakfast, you’re gonna get cavities—forget it. Pyrrha! Your call. What do you feel like for dinner?”</p><p>Pyrrha’s chest was tight as she sat down hesitantly on the sofa. “I don’t…”</p><p>His eyes softened instantly. “Hey,” he said again, much gentler this time. “You don’t have to decide if you don’t want to. I’m gonna bake us all some potatoes. That okay?”</p><p>The relief at not having to generate ideas—if Pyrrha’s life depended on it she wasn’t certain she would have been able to remember that baked potatoes existed—was <em> infinitely </em>more intense than Pyrrha was comfortable with. Her mind was just barely capable of remembering that she was overwhelmed and very far from being fully healed either physically or mentally from her ordeal. That it was entirely normal to struggle making non-critical decisions in this kind of situation.</p><p>The rest of her—</p><p>Her ribs were like knives against her lungs as she squeezed her eyes shut, frantically trying to silence the memory of Cinder’s words.</p><p>“Thank you,” she managed, seconds too late to sound even remotely natural. “That sounds wonderful. Anything—” Her stomach twisted violently. Hating herself for the imposition but too terrified of the alternative not to voice it, she hastily corrected, <em> “Anything but oatmeal </em>...sounds wonderful.”</p><p>Emerald cringed <em> badly </em>at that, and Taiyang’s eyes immediately shot over to her.</p><p>“...Noted,” he said, slowly looking back to Pyrrha. “This won’t take long.”</p><p>He went back to the kitchen, which left her alone with Emerald and Mercury again. The silence was very, very awkward.</p><p>“So,” Mercury said. “Nice hair.”</p><p>Pyrrha, who had chopped waist-length hair off with a shaving razor while sleep-deprived to the point of being functionally high and had not brushed it since, fixed him with a cold look.</p><p>Emerald coughed. “We, uh...Mr. Xiao Long basically interrogated us after you went to bed. We told him how we, uh...got here, but we didn’t—I mean—” She looked down at her lap. “We didn’t tell him anything that’s...yours to share.”</p><p>Pyrrha’s instinctive reaction was irrational, burning anger. <em> Oh, thank you </em> very <em> much, </em> she nearly snapped. <em> So you ensured that the only things I’ll be asked about are the intensely personal traumas, did you? My heroes. </em></p><p>But that wasn’t fair. There were things Pyrrha did not want to talk about. Not here, in this open, sunny living room, with a stranger, in front of Mercury Black and Emerald Sustrai with a corgi headbutting her legs for attention. Not now. Possibly not ever. But she certainly didn’t want anyone <em> else </em>...no. Of course they’d done the right thing by letting her choose how much to tell, and when. She would never have forgiven them otherwise.</p><p>She reached down and scratched Zwei between the ears. “Thank you.”</p><p>“Yeah. I figured...nevermind. Did you, um. Sleep good?”</p><p>Zwei jumped up in her lap, and Pyrrha smiled faintly. “Oh, yes. Didn’t even have any nightmares.”</p><p>She was focused on the extremely adorable corgi in her lap, but she could still feel Emerald wincing.</p><p>“That’s, uh...that’s good.”</p><p>“Fucking hell, Emmy,” Mercury muttered under his breath. Pyrrha ignored them both, in favor of letting Zwei kiss her ear.</p><p>By the time Zwei finally settled—curled up beside Pyrrha, half on top of her leg, unexpectedly heavy for a relatively small dog—Emerald appeared to have gotten herself collected.</p><p>“Anyway,” she said. Mercury, visibly judging her, spun a colorful wheel and moved his token on the game board. “We mostly told him the Salem side of things. We don’t...know much, but we’ve been in the room a lot, so we could tell him, like...who’s in the inner circle, where her focus is. What relic she’s going after next—”</p><p>“Relic?” said Pyrrha.</p><p>“Ah, geez,” said Mercury. “Are you kidding me? How does this random teacher dude know more about Salem than the girl Oz wanted to make the next Fall Maiden?”</p><p>Pyrrha really would like to know that too, actually.</p><p>“Relics of power,” Emerald explained hurriedly. “They’re linked to the Maidens, sealed in magical vaults. There was supposed to be one hidden somewhere in Beacon, but we haven’t been able to find it.” Her eyes widened. <em> “They. She. </em> Cind—Salem hasn’t been able to find it.”</p><p>“Nice save,” said Mercury. “Really smooth. Seriously, Nikos, who the hell <em> is </em>this guy?!”</p><p>Pyrrha shrugged. “Ruby and Yang’s father. That’s all I know, I’d never actually met him before. And that...makes sense. Cinder seemed...frustrated a lot of the time.” <em> And then she’d take it out on me. </em></p><p>Emerald flinched <em> again </em>at that. Pyrrha shot her a glare, and absently reached under her shirt to scratch at her sternum.</p><p>Mercury snorted. “Oh, great. You trusted us to a guy you’d never met who you knew had a grudge against us. Thanks.”</p><p>“Yes,” Pyrrha told him flatly.</p><p>“Eh. I respect that.” He moved his piece on the board again. “Anyway, her next target’s Haven. Need the Spring Maiden for that, and nobody knows where she is. We figured the other side’s probably looking too. Figured we should warn Ozpin’s people ASAP so they stop passing intel, since Lionheart’s a mole for her—”</p><p>Pyrrha leapt to her feet so fast her head span, spilling Zwei onto the floor.</p><p>
  <em> “What?!” </em>
</p><p>“...Right,” said Emerald. “We kind of forgot to tell...listen, Pyrrha, it didn’t exactly come up in—where are you <em> going?!” </em></p><p>That was a good question, and Pyrrha ignored it because she in no way had an answer. All she knew was that her team was meant to be going to Haven, that they didn’t know, that Cinder openly intended to cause Pyrrha as much pain as possible—and Salem didn’t allow loose ends—and they didn’t <em> know, </em> they would think themselves safe, someone had to—</p><p>“Whoa,” said Taiyang, appearing out of nowhere in the grass—when had Pyrrha left the house? What direction was she even walking? “Easy there, kid. Let’s talk about this.”</p><p>Pyrrha stopped, looking around half-wild for some indication of...something. “I need to…”</p><p>“I know,” he said. “But first you need to come back inside.”</p><p>“I <em> can’t!” </em> How could he stand there being this calm? Did he not realize—how long ago had the rest of JNPR left Vale, why hadn’t she asked, they had to have been in Anima for months by now, they could already be...Cinder might already have... </p><p>“Pyrrha,” Taiyang said, hands held up, non-threatening. “Listen to me. You’re having a panic attack—”</p><p>The laugh Pyrrha gave in response to that was not stable.</p><p>“You’re having a panic attack,” was the steady, quiet response. “Yang had them too. Qrow...has bad days, sometimes. The point is, you’re safe. We’re going to ride this out together; it’ll pass. You’re not dying. Neither are they. Come on, kid. Find something to focus on. How many steps are there leading up to the back porch?”</p><p>Pyrrha fought back a wave of despair at the apparent non sequitur. “I—what? Three?”</p><p>“There we go,” said Taiyang, voice soft but cheerful. “See anything blue?”</p><p>Blinking rapidly, heart still pounding, confused and disconnected, Pyrrha obediently answered, “The...sky? There’s—that watering can. You have blue eyes, there’s...some blue fabric inside the shed window…”</p><p>“Good.” Taiyang smiled, and Pyrrha realized she was breathing more easily. She was still terrified, thinking of Team RWBY—and Ren and Nora and <em> Jaune, </em> wandering innocent and unsuspecting into Salem’s clutches. But she could almost...almost...think through it. Taiyang’s shoulders relaxed slightly as he somehow saw the shift in her face. “Good,” he repeated. “Good. Good girl. Now—”</p><p>
  <em> There now, was that so hard to say? I knew you could be a good girl. </em>
</p><p>Pyrrha was only vaguely aware of a voice other than Cinder’s, purring in her ear. The other voice wasn’t saying anything sensible; a jumble of sounds that she knew she should be able to make sense of. But it was impossible to concentrate on it when there were fingers carding through her hair, playing with the ponytail she thought she’d cut off, the overpowering scent of blood in her nostrils, the searing, unnatural burn of lips just below her jaw, murmuring softly where she couldn’t help but hear every word...</p><p>“...on Patch, Pyrrha. You’re safe. You’re a boat ride away from Vale, staying with a licensed Huntsman. You’re safe, you’re in Patch, no one’s going to touch you. Can you hear me?”</p><p>Right. Right. Of course. She knew that.</p><p>After several long seconds, Pyrrha finally managed a jerky nod.</p><p>“Can I touch your shoulder?”</p><p>Part of her desperately wanted that grounding contact; the rest recoiled at the thought of anyone ever touching her again. </p><p>Before she could decide, Taiyang—she was able to focus on his face again now, mostly—sighed.</p><p>“That’s a no,” he decided. “I’m here, kid. Take your time. Breathe out for longer than you breathe in. Let’s sit down, all right? It’s a while until sunset.”</p><p>Pyrrha let herself be guided back to the steps; later, she would be impressed at the way he managed it without ever so much as brushing fingers over her elbow. The fresh air helped. The sunlight helped.  </p><p>“...I’m sorry,” she whispered, when she finally could.</p><p>“Hey, no.” He made an abortive gesture, as if he wanted to put an arm around her shoulders but had caught himself just in time. “No, I’m sorry. I won’t say that again around you.”</p><p>Pyrrha swallowed. “She would…”</p><p>She wasn’t able to say it. Not yet.</p><p>“I can guess,” said Tai, quietly.</p><p>Pyrrha closed her eyes and nodded.</p><p>After a long pause, Tai sat forward and rested his hands on his knees. “About your team,” he said. “And my girls. We’re <em> going </em>to make sure they’re safe, I promise; trust me, I get it. Ruby’s out there too, and Yang’s not far behind. But they’re not stupid, and they’re not alone, either. They’ve got Ozpin’s spymaster looking out for them. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve figured out that Lionheart’s turned traitor already.”</p><p>“I need to warn them,” Pyrrha whispered.</p><p>“...We’re going to warn them, Pyrrha. But you’re...really not in a condition to travel, if you don’t mind my saying.”</p><p>He was right, and she knew it; but that terrible fear still coiled in her belly. “I can rest when we get to Mistral,” she insisted. “And on the way. This is more important.”</p><p>“Right now,” Tai insisted, “the most important thing is making sure you recover. You need to rest and recuperate. Get your strength back up. Take some time to heal. That needs to be our only priority for now.”</p><p>Pyrrha’s shoulders tensed defensively. “How can you <em> say </em>that?”</p><p>“Well, for one thing,” said Tai. “You’re only wearing one sock.”</p><p>Pyrrha looked down. She was, in fact, still wearing Yang’s borrowed pajamas and had never actually reclaimed the fuzzy sock she’d lost in her sleep.</p><p>“...I can go put the other one back on,” she mumbled.</p><p>Tai sighed.</p><p>“I’m going to do everything I can to help them,” he promised. “And you. All three of you, even, if that’s what you want. But right now, if you try to run off to Mistral, you’re not going to make it. You’re a Huntress; you know that.”</p><p>Pyrrha’s head swam in time with an awful lurch somewhere behind her navel; if Tai noticed the change in her body language, he didn’t comment on it. He just waited until she’d taken a few deep breaths to continue.</p><p>“Stay here until you’re actually healthy,” he offered. “Please. Come on, it’s the least I can do. I’ll send word to Glynda in Vale, and she can find someone to get a warning out ahead of you.”</p><p>“Don’t…” Pyrrha winced. “There’s...no need to inform her about Emerald and Mercury. Please.”</p><p>“She’ll leave them alone if I ask her to,” Tai said with a quiet certainty that Pyrrha would have found disconcerting, if he didn’t also somehow know about Salem. “But if that’s what you want, then I’ll wait until you leave to tell her they were here. You’ve been through enough, Pyrrha. Let the adults handle this one.”</p><p>Pyrrha...couldn’t explain the hot tears slowly blocking her vision. Didn’t fully understand why now, of all times, she was overwhelmed this way. She wiped her eyes with the collar of Yang’s pajama shirt, which didn’t do any good; more just followed.</p><p>“It’s not about the warning,” she managed finally, frustrated by how tiny and broken her voice sounded. “I need...they think I’m dead.”</p><p>She needed her team. If it wasn’t safe to find her mother again, then—she needed her team. She needed her family. If she could just find them then maybe this would be real, maybe this would be more than just borrowed time. </p><p>Somehow, Taiyang Xiao Long understood everything she hadn’t said.</p><p>“Right now,” he told her, “You’re probably going to be able to find your team faster than the mail would anyway. The best way to make sure we get a warning out is to make sure you’re strong enough to get to them. I can’t give you kids much money for the trip, but I’ve got some cash tucked away for emergencies—and if <em> this </em> doesn’t qualify, let’s maybe warn Haven about their headmaster before we find out what does. We’ll get you some equipment. Maybe, you know, <em> shoes, </em> even.”</p><p>This time Pyrrha’s laugh was...shaky, and tear-filled, but sane.</p><p>As if on cue, there was a beeping from inside the house. Tai stood up, brushing down his shorts.</p><p>“In the meantime,” he said. “Let’s start with getting you a baked potato, and we’ll work from there.”</p><p>Pyrrha swallowed. It was hard, and it hurt, and she couldn’t help smiling through it anyway. She reached out and took the hand Tai offered her, letting him pull her to her feet.</p><p>“Deal,” she said.</p><hr/><p>This had been so much less weird when she was handcuffed to a radiator.</p><p>That had made sense! Taiyang Xiao Long had no reason to trust them, he had every reason <em> not </em> to trust them, they’d helped <em> destroy the world </em> and he had nothing but their word that they’d changed their minds about that. Like, what, they showed up and said they were <em> really sorry </em> about the apocalypse and everything was fine now?</p><p>He didn’t <em> like </em>them, but—</p><p>He’d left them alone in the house, was the thing. That was what had Emerald on the back foot. Apparently he was a junior combat training instructor—Mercury was still walking around the house muttering about how the hell some school teacher dad who lived in the woods was in the inner spy circle. So, he was off at the Signal Academy facility at the moment.</p><p>And he’d left them here, alone, with Pyrrha, in his house.</p><p>It wasn’t like he was <em> stupid </em> , so what the <em> hell— </em></p><p>Emerald sighed and went back to flipping through the three available channels.</p><p>They’d been here too long, that was all. She was getting restless; Merc was, too. They <em> needed </em>to keep moving, a week and a half in one place this early in their escape was suicide—but Pyrrha really had needed the time. If they’d tried to move on any sooner they’d all have been dead.</p><p>She was almost strong enough to leave now, though. Emerald glanced over—right now she was sitting at the kitchen table, an empty plate of last night’s leftovers in front of her, idly twirling a fork in the air over the palm of her hand. Playing with her Semblance, and did <em> that </em>ever set off a pang of guilt in Emerald’s heart.</p><p>“The dad should be back soon,” commented Mercury, who was doing crunches on the floor while Zwei tried to lick his face. “Surprised he’s not here already. For <em> some reason </em> I don’t think he likes leaving Pyrrha by herself. Seriously, it’s not like we’re gonna eat her. Too many bones.”</p><p>Emerald tried not to wince. “He’s got a name, you know.”</p><p>“Yeah,” said Merc. “But like, I don’t care, though.”</p><p>Pyrrha snorted softly and took a long drink of juice. She was eating real food, now; it had taken five days of square meals before Taiyang felt comfortable graduating her from like, plain baked potatoes and unseasoned chicken. Something about shocking her system too fast. But him and Pyrrha had been carefully planning out her meals every day, introducing things like, uh...flavor...back into her diet one at a time. </p><p>She was…better. </p><p>She’d been working out, her skin had lost its unhealthy pallor, and she was wearing the newly-forged armor that Taiyang had brought her a few days ago, to break it in. It was a lot like her original set, gold with black underlays and a swath of red fabric around her shoulders. Covering up to her neck, Emerald couldn’t help noticing, and feeling guilty about...</p><p>“What?” said Pyrrha, wary, a little defensive. She clutched the fork tightly, and the fingers of her other hand brushed her close-cropped hair. </p><p><em> Fuck. </em>She’d been staring.</p><p>Emerald jumped slightly at Pyrrha’s hard look. “Oh! Um...sorry. You just...you look...better, now...”</p><p>
  <em> Don’t say now that you have clothes on, don’t say now that you have clothes on, don’t say now that you have clothes on— </em>
</p><p>Pyrrha’s eyes narrowed. “...Right. Um. Thanks.”</p><p>“Yeah, congrats on looking like a person again,” Mercury interjected, very, very helpfully. “Anyone else think we should have the blinds closed? There’s literally a serial killer hunting us. I’m all for letting in the sunshine or whatever, but...”</p><p>Pyrrha’s face did something complicated at that; she didn’t argue, but her fork fell out of the air and clattered on the table.</p><p>Emerald...took a wild guess.</p><p>“We’re already in the middle of nowhere,” she pointed out. “If Tyrian shows up, it’ll be because he <em> knows </em>we’re here. Having the blinds closed isn’t gonna stop him. If Taiyang doesn’t think we need to close the place up while he’s gone, it’s probably fine.”</p><p>Pyrrha relaxed slightly. Mercury did not.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said. “Whatever. I don’t know if Garden Dad should be our standard, but fine. I’m just saying, I don’t like how long he’s been gone and I think we should have, I don’t know, some kind of contingency plan—”</p><p>“Well,” said Taiyang reasonably, closing the back door behind him. “If I’d known you kids were gonna miss me so much, I’d have brought flowers.”</p><p>Mercury rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the couch, unchambering the Dust canister he’d reflexively aimed at the door.</p><p>Pyrrha, on the other hand, half-stood, hesitating as Taiyang set a handful of brown-paper packages on the counter. Taiyang smiled, snagged her empty juice glass off the table, and refilled it for her as she hovered between the table and the packages. </p><p>She looked like she was afraid they might bite her.</p><p>“How’re you feeling?” he asked casually, ignoring the boxes for now. When Pyrrha’s response was a long silence and then a delayed, bitter laugh, he winced. “All right. More specific. How’s your stomach? How are we feeling about bacon tonight?”</p><p>Pyrrha thought about it and wiggled a hand. “I’d like to try.”</p><p>“Great.” He smiled disarmingly, and jerked his head towards the packages. “How about those? Want to take a look at them?”</p><p>Pyrrha closed her eyes and let out a deep, shuddering breath. After a moment she reached up and rubbed the back of her neck.</p><p>“...Yes,” she finally decided. “Yes, I think I do.”</p><p>“The one on top is just Dust,” Taiyang said, quiet and careful but clearly trying not to make too big a deal out of it. “Figured I’d grab you as much as I could while I had the chance.” </p><p>Other than that, he just stepped back and watched and let Pyrrha do this on her own time. Emerald was glad for so many reasons that they had this guy around, because she was so nervous about this that she was about to just explode.</p><p>Pyrrha crossed the room, slow but steady; took a deep breath, and carefully unwrapped the first package. The box inside was sealed and marked with the Signal Academy Forge symbol, which explained why Taiyang had double-wrapped the boxes in brown paper—they didn’t want any indication that there might be a Huntress student around, if anyone was watching him.</p><p>Pyrrha broke the seal, took the lid off the box, and carefully lifted her new spear from the foam lining.</p><p>Form-wise, it was much the same—right now it was in sword form, for ease of transport. But it glinted golden in the light as she turned it over. Gold edged with crimson, while the original had been the opposite. A few details in the shape were different, too—Emerald had memorized the weapons of Cinder’s targets, on her orders, so she could tell.</p><p>It wasn’t a replica. It wasn’t what had come before. It filled the same function, yes, but it was <em> different. </em></p><p>Pyrrha shifted her grip, extending the sword to its spear form, and the flash of delight in her eyes made something warm twinge in Emerald’s heart.</p><p>“Sorry it took a while,” Tai said. “Your design is pretty complex, if you don’t mind me saying. It balanced right?”</p><p>Pyrrha flipped it around, transforming it into a rifle as she did so, and checked the sights. “Yes,” she said, a painfully-earnest lilt in her voice. “Yes, it’s lovely. Thank you.”</p><p>“You want to try out the shield too?”</p><p>Another, longer pause, as something much darker flashed behind Pyrrha’s eyes.</p><p>“...Yes.”</p><p>Its colors had been inverted too, when she called it onto her gauntlet, gold-on-black.</p><p>For just a moment, bathed in fading red-gold light, she looked—like a Huntress. The kind of hero Emerald and Cinder had never been, the kind Pyrrha had been destined to become. </p><p>Taiyang let the moment stretch, watching Pyrrha acclimate to the new fit of her weapons, before gently breaking the silence. “Have names for them yet?”</p><p>“I need to get to know them first,” Pyrrha said, just a little breathless. Emerald—wasn’t a Huntress, but she understood that well enough. Gods knew she’d have been dead in a ditch years ago without her kusarigama...</p><p>Tai understood too, of course. “I set up some tin cans in the back. A couple of Ruby’s old training dummies.”</p><p>Like he used to do for his kids, Emerald thought, and didn’t say out loud.</p><p>A smile crossed Pyrrha’s face. It was brief and tiny, barely a flicker, laced with pain, but Emerald was an expert on making people see things that weren’t there, and not see things that were. The softness in that smile had been real.</p><p>“Won’t that…” Pyrrha’s voice wavered. She swallowed, and tried again. “Won’t that attract attention?”</p><p>Tai shook his head. “Some kid shooting at cans? If Salem’s personal assassin was running off after the sound of every bored teenager doing target practice in the backyard, trust me, we’d be a lot safer than we are.”</p><p>“Hundred lien says I’m a better shot than you without even using my hands,” said Merc when Pyrrha still hesitated.</p><p>Emerald snorted. “As if.” They’d both seen Pyrrha taking down Grimm like some kind of legendary warrior on the flight to Vytal.</p><p>Pyrrha, however, narrowed her eyes just slightly. “I don’t have a hundred lien.”</p><p>“Bet you dish-washing duty,” was the retort. “Unless you don’t want to risk it.”</p><p>Emerald glanced at Taiyang, anxious, wondering if she should try to shut Mercury up before he cracked down on this shit. To her shock, Taiyang—who made no secret of the fact that their mere presence was entirely the result of him wanting what was best for Pyrrha and Pyrrha only—mostly looked amused.</p><p>“Out of twenty-one,” said Pyrrha shortly. Mercury smirked and trailed her into the backyard.  </p><p>And then Emerald was alone with Yang and Ruby’s dad.</p><p>As far as awkward situations went, this was...technically less awkward than being with Pyrrha was. Emerald had never kidnapped him, or stood by and not said anything while he was—she’d just almost gotten his daughters killed, that’s all—</p><p>“You doing good, kid?”</p><p>Emerald stared at him. Was that—no, he wasn’t mocking her. “Uh…” She clenched and unclenched her hands at her sides, which was as little of a tell as she could get away with right no. “Y-Yeah, I guess.”</p><p>Taiyang’s raised eyebrow and crossed arms were entirely too knowing.</p><p>“Okay—look.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is weird, okay? I don’t know how you can just let me and Merc run around like this! You’re just—leaving us loose in your house with your stuff!”</p><p>“Well, I could cuff you back to the radiator if it’d make you feel better,” Taiyang said, far more amused than made sense.</p><p>“...Okay, I don’t actually want that,” Emerald said. “It’s just...confusing. All you’ve really got is Pyrrha’s word, and she...didn’t have many options.”</p><p>Taiyang shrugged, folding his arms loosely as he leaned back against the wall.</p><p>“I’ve got your word too,” he pointed out. “You’re planning to, what? Go back to Salem? Because she’d be <em> thrilled </em>to take you back, right?”</p><p>He was obviously being sarcastic, but Emerald still blanched at the thought of what would happen if they <em> ever </em>approached Salem again. Or were caught by her. Or...existed anywhere near anyone who worked for her.</p><p>Salem. She was thinking about Salem.</p><p>“Yeah.” The dry sarcasm faded; he just looked sad, and tired. “You’re not gonna betray us, you’ve got nowhere to go. And I’m probably one of like...five people? In the world? Who know enough to actually help you avoid her. Besides, you might think you’re hot stuff but you’re still just a couple of kids, Emerald. You’re not actually as much of a threat to <em> me </em>as you think you are.”</p><p>He was harboring them from the Queen of Darkness <em> and </em>from the Vale authorities, so Emerald was polite enough not to argue. Besides, sure, why not. This guy was weird enough already, maybe his Semblance was “snap fingers and everyone dies” or something.</p><p>“That doesn’t mean you have to protect us, though,” she pointed out, some of the wind out of her sails but no less confused.</p><p>“I think the fact that you’re arguing I should throw you both to the wolves shows why I’m not,” Tai said, bemused. “Look—I’ve known people who did bad stuff they ended up regretting. A couple of <em> punk teenagers </em> without any real options, actually. And they both—well, <em> one </em> of them turned out alright. You’re kids. You’re just as scared as she is. It’s not complicated.”</p><p>“...Merc’s not scared,” Emerald muttered.</p><p>Taiyang actually laughed out loud at that. “Oh, man, that’s good. Since you don’t have a career in <em> the apocalypse </em> anymore, you should try being a stand-up comedian instead.”</p><p>“Alright, geez. He’s a dickhead, then.”</p><p>“Well, <em> yeah. </em> Qrow was too, though. Now he’s a dickhead <em> and </em>a great Huntsman.” Something occurred to him. “Oh yeah, Yang’s still got some maintenance stuff for her arm left around here, let that twerp know he’s welcome to it when you leave.”</p><p>Emerald rubbed the back of her head, nervously laughing a little under her breath. She’d, uh, forgot about that, actually.</p><p>Taiyang put a hand on her shoulder—gently, moving slow enough that she had time to see it coming and not flinch.</p><p>“You realize,” he said casually. “Every time I talk to Pyrrha about where she wants to go when she’s ready to leave, all three of you always assume you’ll be sticking together? Even <em> that </em>asshole. He complains about it, but he’s not actually planning to split up. You ever notice that?”</p><p>Well, yeah. And no. Emerald hadn’t really thought of it like that. She just always assumed she and Mercury would stay together, and since she wasn’t leaving Pyrrha until she’d...paid some of her debt, until she’d at least kept her promise to get her back to her team...but it wasn’t like Merc had any reason to stick around anymore. He’d gotten Emerald somewhere safe, and he probably wasn’t powerful or high-profile enough to merit a pursuit if Emerald and Pyrrha were going the other direction.</p><p>But now that Taiyang mentioned it—Mercury bitched about the delays constantly, but he always said “we”. </p><p>There was a warm squeeze to her shoulder, and Taiyang pushed off the wall.</p><p>“Not bad,” he called into the backyard, where Pyrrha had just out-shot Mercury for the nineteenth time in a row. He flashed her a reassuring grin and rolled his shoulders. “Let’s see how that thing handles in melee, huh?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Nausicca II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>She knows it's true whether she believes it yet or not.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“We left the next day. We had already waited longer than was safe; we had no choice. Mr. Xiao Long purchased tickets on a trustworthy merchant liner, but—”</p><p>Pyrrha winced, cutting herself off as something in her throat rasped horribly. She picked up her water glass, which had run empty again; Blake, moving to refill it, realized with a jolt that they’d gone through the entire pitcher.</p><p>“Oh,” she said out loud, looking around pointlessly. “One second, I can…”</p><p>“Why don’t we take a break,” her mom interjected smoothly. </p><p>Well. ‘Smoothly’. Blake could <em> feel </em>the tension in her mother’s ears, the strain in her voice that she’d managed to almost completely hide. But there was a decent chance Pyrrha, who didn’t know Kali Belladonna well, wouldn’t notice.</p><p>“That’s a good idea.” Her father’s calm was much more organic. “You’ve been talking for nearly three hours. We all have...a lot to process, I think.”</p><p>There was a pause.</p><p>“You <em> think?!” </em>said Sun.</p><p>Dad growled under his breath. Blake elbowed him lightly.</p><p>On his other side, Mom did the same. “I’ll have tea and some hot sandwiches brought in. You kids must be starving.”</p><p>Pyrrha’s expression—shifted, almost imperceptibly. Blake felt her brow furrow, but almost before she noticed the change it was gone.</p><p>Mom continued, either not noticing or choosing to ignore it for Pyrrha’s sake.</p><p>“Restroom’s down the hall on your left,” she told the newcomers kindly. “There should be throat lozenges under the sink, if you want any. Get some fresh air, and meet back here in...half an hour? Forty-five minutes?”</p><p>“Something like that,” Blake agreed.</p><p>“Cool,” said Sun. “I’m gonna go, uh…”</p><p>“Scream into the night,” Ilia finished, in a dazed tone that made Blake wince. She felt a little lightheaded herself, after what they’d heard.</p><p>“Yeah, that!” Sun agreed. “Well, actually, I was gonna say I <em> really </em>need to pee. But, you know, after that.”</p><p>Mercury cleared his throat. “Hey, uh, speaking of which…”</p><p>Oh, right. Blake gave a stiff nod to the guards—who were trying with varying levels of success to maintain stoic expressions—to uncuff them, but before they could move Pyrrha had already done it with a wave of her hand.</p><p>Ilia ran a finger over Lightning Lash. “Fine,” she said, clearly trying for cynical toughness. It didn’t work. Blake doubted any of them were able to view Mercury and Emerald as serious threats anymore. “But I’m watching you. <em> Especially </em>you.”</p><p>“What,” said Mercury, without missing a beat. “The <em> whole </em>time?”</p><p>Leaving them to bicker, Blake slipped out of the room on Pyrrha’s heels. She passed the bathroom; Blake was about to call out to point her in the right direction when she realized Pyrrha was headed for the balcony door instead. </p><p>Pyrrha nudged the door open, stepping out into the warm night air. She took a deep breath as soon as she thought she was alone, ran both hands through her short-cropped hair; then, eyes closed, she rested her head back against the wall. Blake...hesitated. But who knew what thoughts Pyrrha was alone with, right now?</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>Pyrrha jolted back to alertness at that in a way that was guiltily familiar to Blake, but her shoulders relaxed again once she saw Blake. “Oh. Hello again, Blake. Was there, um...something?”</p><p>“I just wanted to check on you.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Pyrrha’s smile was a little too even, a little too normal. “I appreciate it.”</p><p>Well, Blake thought. At least she wasn’t trying to claim she was fine.</p><p>“Hey,” she said again, voice wavering more than she’d anticipated. She closed the door carefully behind her. “It’s...it’s okay if you’re not okay.”</p><p>Blake...wasn’t either, she had to admit that. And not—well, <em> aside </em> from all the normal reasons she wasn’t okay. What Pyrrha had told them was...terrifying. Something out of her worst nightmares, something that had made her realize that even now, after <em> everything, </em>she still wasn’t prepared for the depths that Adam would sink to—but that wasn’t the point. That wasn’t what she was letting herself think about right now.</p><p>Pyrrha had spent more than half a year imprisoned by an immortal Grimm sorceress from the time when the moon was whole. And the most disturbing thing was that Blake suspected this <em> Salem </em> wasn’t who Pyrrha was really afraid of.</p><p>“Thank you.” This time, there was just a hint of curtness to it, a bit of an edge. Blake nearly drew back at the warning; but she recognized it, as well. Slowly, carefully, she reached out and took Pyrrha’s hand. Laced their fingers together. Held tight.</p><p>Pyrrha took a long, shaky breath, and finally squeezed back.</p><p>“How are you?” Blake asked her. “I mean it.”</p><p>This time, Pyrrha managed to laugh. It was trembling and unstable, but that was better than the carefully-controlled blankness.</p><p>“Comparatively speaking?” she asked, sounding as if she were speaking past marbles in her throat. Blake winced; but Pyrrha gestured around them with her free hand. “I’ve...never been to Menagerie, before. It’s beautiful here. You can see so many stars.”</p><p>“It is,” Blake said, carefully, unsure where Pyrrha was going.</p><p>“And I’m...here, and free,” said Pyrrha, barely seeming as if she was talking to <em> Blake </em> at all anymore. “Despite everything. I have...my health back, and my Aura, even weapons I can trust again. I am <em> surrounded </em> by people in whom I can have faith. People I know I can count on to protect me. All of this evidence that—she was wrong, that she failed. I know, in time, I <em> will </em>be able to believe that again.”</p><p>She swallowed hard; Blake, who hadn’t noticed her grip on Pyrrha’s hand tighten reflexively, carefully loosened it again.</p><p>“It’s...difficult,” Pyrrha decided. “To talk about.”</p><p>“You don’t have to,” said Blake, immediately. “I can tell my parents you aren’t ready. You’ve told us everything we need to know to protect Haven Academy; you have the right to—”</p><p>“No.” The interruption was not forceful, but it was clear. “It <em> is </em>difficult, but...there is...relief, in finally bringing it into the light.”</p><p>For a few long minutes, they stood together watching the stars.</p><p>“I...know a little about what you mean,” Blake said, finally. “It’s not the same. I won’t pretend…”</p><p>“Blake,” said Pyrrha, firmly. Blake’s lips twitched.</p><p>“All right.” She started again. “It was the same for me. I’d spent so <em> long </em> carrying those memories, feeling like...I <em> couldn’t </em> tell the people I cared about, not even because I thought they would hate me but because how could they <em> understand? </em> What was the point? And when I finally did… It was like fighting Beowolves in the dark. Even if my friends—my <em> family </em>—couldn’t really help me fight them, having them out in the open where we could see them clearly, knowing I wasn’t alone with them anymore, made them feel smaller.”</p><p>“Isolation,” Pyrrha said softly. “It’s the greatest weapon of despair.”</p><p>Blake inclined her head. There was another long, gentle silence.</p><p>“I like that analogy,” Pyrrha finally said. “Robbing the darkness of its power. Shining a light on what our fears truly are.”</p><p>Blake ran a thumb over Pyrrha’s hand, and thought very carefully about what she wanted to say.</p><p>“I think what I eventually realized,” she said slowly. “Is that half of the weight of those memories wasn’t even fear or pain. I felt so much <em> shame. </em> Adam made me feel...smaller than I would ever want <em> anyone </em> to think they were. I believed him. I was so sure that I was a coward, that I was weak...there were so many awful things I told myself because I believed they were true. Being alone with that darkness only made it stronger, and impossible to talk about with anyone who really cared, because I didn’t <em> want </em>them to know that side of me.”</p><p>Pyrrha turned to her, forehead creased in concern; Blake flashed a genuine smile, and placed her free hand on Pyrrha’s arm to give a reassuring squeeze.</p><p>“Once I was able to talk about it I realized the shame wasn’t mine to carry,” she said, as warmly as she could without overwhelming a friend who was already overwhelmed. “Everything I was afraid of about myself...when I started trying to say it out loud to anyone who wasn’t <em> him, </em> they reacted like I was being ridiculous. And at first I thought they were wrong, that he’d seen a side of me they hadn’t. But eventually I realized…”</p><p>She took a deep breath. Her eyes flickered, trying not to rest on the intersecting web of scars along Pyrrha’s arms and shoulders, the shadows behind her eyes, the fact they were in a warmer climate than Vale and yet Pyrrha was more covered than she’d ever been at Beacon—</p><p>“I realized that I wasn’t weak for doing what I had to, in order to protect myself,” Blake said, gentle, firm. “That the only person who should be ashamed of—of things I did, or said, to avoid being hurt—the <em> only </em> person who should be ashamed of that is <em> him.” </em></p><p>Pyrrha gave her a long, pained look, finally starting as if to say something and then pulling back. Then she looked back out over the balcony again, with starlight glistening in her eyes. </p><hr/><p>Pyrrha thought she might have heard someone coming. It was hard to care.</p><p>The sound of the door opening on its own was enough to make her curl into a weak ball, breath stuttering with agony. She didn’t have the strength to do anything more, but the sound drove an iron spike through her head—and her headache had already gone from miserable to <em> unbearable </em>so long ago she couldn’t even guess at how much time had passed. </p><p>Cinder’s quiet chuckle sent another pulse of raw, red pain through Pyrrha’s skull. It made her eyes hurt. How could such a soft noise make her <em> eyes </em>hurt…?</p><p>“Oh, come now.” Cinder’s tone was light, nearly teasing. </p><p>Pyrrha managed to uncurl, trying to lift her head. She managed—barely. Every muscle shook with the effort; her head had never felt so heavy, and the rest of her felt...odd. Half-present, almost ethereal, like her body would be nothing but smoke if touched. Except that it was also so terribly, impossibly <em> heavy… </em></p><p>Cinder crossed her arms, smiling down with open amusement. “It hasn’t even been that long, you know. You can’t possibly be this helpless after only a few <em> days </em> without food.” Dully, through the sluggish waves of pain in her head, Pyrrha made a mental note of time passing once more. “Some people in <em> much </em> worse shape than you have to actually <em> work </em>on an empty stomach like that, dear. A Huntress in the field never knows for certain where her next meal might come from, and she needs to be able to function in combat.”</p><p>Pyrrha’s eyes drifted closed. Despair settled heavily, the only thing in her empty stomach.</p><p>She knew what Cinder wanted her to say, now.</p><p>“I’m—” Her mouth was so dry that trying to speak sent her into a coughing fit that made her whole body jerk painfully. Once it subsided, she took a deep breath. “I’m not a Huntress.”</p><p>Some part of Pyrrha really had hoped that would be enough. It had been, in the past. Some of the worst scars she had been given were earned by refusing, for hours on end, to say those very words.</p><p>Not today.</p><p>“I think anyone could see <em> that,” </em> said Cinder, still only mildly condescending, an almost friendly mockery. “A child who never knew you could tell me that you are no Huntress <em> now.” </em></p><p>She paused, and waited.</p><p>Maybe Pyrrha was meant to be grateful that she was being given time to collect her thoughts. “I’m...not...a Huntress,” she managed again, tongue awkward and slow. It was difficult to string words together, with her body this weak, her mind loose and feeble with starvation. “I’m not...I never was.”</p><p>She could say that much. It was easier, actually. It was only the truth, she was only eighteen…</p><p>Cinder seemed to be following the train of thought. “Mmm,” she agreed. “You were only a student, is that it? A trainee. So it’s not <em> fair </em>to expect the same from you as from a true Huntress.”</p><p>Pyrrha was too exhausted to try to work out a response to that. She’d burned what energy she had just speaking.</p><p>After a moment, Cinder dropped to one knee so that she could lift Pyrrha’s chin to her. Almost managing to make it look like a coincidence, the toe of one hard glass shoe rested over Pyrrha’s fingers. For now, for the most part, she kept her weight on her knee. But Pyrrha was too weak to pull her hand free; and if Cinder shifted her weight, there was a very real chance the angle would snap Pyrrha’s fingers.</p><p>“Of course you were never a Huntress,” Cinder murmured. “And I think you know the truth. Not everyone graduates the Academies, do they. Only <em> true </em> Huntsmen and Huntresses earn that honor. And were <em> you </em>ever a true Huntress?”</p><p>Pyrrha closed her eyes again, defeated. After a few seconds, a spike of sharp agony drove through her hand as her fingers were ground between glass and unyielding stone.</p><p>“I asked you a <em> question.” </em></p><p>“N—no!” Before Cinder could interpret that poorly—it was not a word she usually tolerated hearing—Pyrrha rushed, fighting against her stupid tongue and slow brain, to add, “I, I wasn’t...a Huntress. I would never have been a Huntress, I was…”</p><p>The pain in her fingers lessened slightly.</p><p>“What were you?” asked Cinder, sounding innocently curious.</p><p>Pyrrha swallowed, trying to remember some of the phrases Cinder had used before. “I...was just a...pampered stage performer, I didn’t even really win my fights, I cheated…w-with my Semblance, I was never in a real fight until...you.”</p><p>“Oh, I know,” said Cinder soothingly, running fingers through Pyrrha’s hair. “You should never have been expected to act as a Huntress. Luckily for you, I saw the value in what you really are.” A nearly affectionate chuck under the chin, and she finally released Pyrrha’s jaw. Casually, she drew a small piece of bread from a pouch at her belt. “Take this, then, if you <em> really </em>need so much coddling.”</p><p>Pyrrha’s arm was pinned under her body; Cinder’s foot threatened to crush the fingers of her hand, and she knew better than to try to free the other. Too hungry to care, Pyrrha let her mouth fall open and took the morsel between her teeth. Too hungry to care, but her cheeks burned as she chewed, regardless.</p><p>For several long minutes, Cinder hand-fed her in silence. Maybe it was Pyrrha’s imagination, but she thought her headache was already getting better as her body found something to fuel itself with.</p><p>“I’m curious,” said Cinder, and sour fear surged in Pyrrha’s gut so violently she nearly threw everything back up again.</p><p>Steady. Steady…</p><p>Cinder hummed, still playing idly with Pyrrha’s hair as she continued. “Did you really <em> believe </em>everything you just said to me?” she mused. “Or were you just saying what you thought I wanted to hear?”</p><p>It took Pyrrha several seconds to realize that there was no safe answer to this. Cinder’s worst tortures, the most creative forms of cruelty, were always presented as punishment for ‘lies’. Sometimes the lie was genuine. More often it was just a truth she didn’t like.</p><p>“You’re <em> learning,” </em> Cinder murmured in a tone of deep satisfaction. Pyrrha didn’t have the energy to cringe, but she did her best. “Were you worried I would be angry? I’m <em> proud </em> of you for accepting your place. A <em> Huntress </em>would never degrade herself that way. Would she, Pyrrha?”</p><p>Pyrrha squeezed her eyes shut. “No, Cinder,” she whispered.</p><p>“You know I wouldn’t go to all this effort to keep you alive only to let you starve to death. You’ve been given plenty of clean water. I would have fed you eventually, regardless. All you’ve saved yourself is a little pain. A Huntress would rather have endured that than submit to someone like <em> me.”  </em></p><p>Speech beyond her, Pyrrha nodded shakily, keeping her eyes shut, not wanting to see the way Cinder was looking at her.</p><p>“So whether you believe it in full or not, yet…”</p><p>She trailed off, expectantly. It was obvious Pyrrha was meant to complete the thought. “It’s true,” she said, in a voice utterly pitiful to her own ears. “Whether I believe it yet or not.”</p><p>She was rewarded with another piece of bread, pressed to her lips.</p><p>
  <em> “Good girl.” </em>
</p><hr/><p>“Pyrrha…?”</p><p>Pyrrha’s white-knuckled grip on the balcony rail twitched slightly. She took a slow, shallow breath and gave her head a slight shake.</p><p>“I am...glad you were able to realize that,” she said finally, voice suspiciously even.</p><p>Blake wasn’t actually stupid.</p><p>Ears pricking forward with concern, she took half a step forward. She reached out, then second-guessed herself; Pyrrha might not want to be touched right now. “Hey…”</p><p>Pyrrha drew away from her extended hand, but it was a deceptively casual and deliberate motion, not a flinch. The smile she offered Blake was fragile, too sharp at the edges, like cracked glass; but it was as genuine as she could make it, right now.</p><p>“Thank you, Blake,” she said. “I...appreciate it. I really do. But I think I’d like to go back inside now.”</p><p>Blake gave her own small smile back. “That’s alright, Pyrrha. I’m here whenever you need me.”</p><p>Her acceptance lifted a visible weight from Pyrrha’s shoulders, and the smile softened into something equally fragile, but less likely to shatter under the slightest pressure.</p><p>It hadn’t been <em> nearly </em>forty-five minutes yet, but the others still filtered in within a few minutes of Blake and Pyrrha. There was already a platter of hot sandwiches waiting on the coffee table; the ice water pitcher had been refilled, and two spares brought in and set on a side table. Someone on the house staff had kindly wheeled in a tea service, and someone else who’d clearly figured out some of what was happening and even more clearly deserved a promotion had placed multiple sake bottles on said tea service.</p><p>Ilia whispered a prayer of thanks upon entering the room and swiped one of the bottles without breaking stride. Blake’s mouth twitched slightly as she was reminded of their shared first time getting drunk together at <em> far </em>too young an age, but the pleasant part of the memory faded as she noticed Ilia’s eyes were bloodshot from crying.</p><p>“Done screaming?” asked Sun, who was slicing a banana onto his meatball sub and deserved to be arrested for it.</p><p>“Taking a break,” rasped Ilia, and poured herself a shot.</p><p>“Give,” Mercury demanded. Ilia, apparently too exhausted by the night’s revelations to care anymore, handed him the bottle without protest.</p><p>He and Emerald were unrestrained now, of course. It was pointless to tie them up anyway; Pyrrha could free them at any moment, and if they were faking being on Pyrrha’s side for some reason they’d clearly had plenty of opportunity to betray her already. This would be a <em> wildly </em>convoluted way to assassinate the Chieftain of Menagerie, honestly.</p><p>Blake’s parents were the last to rejoin them, looking more put-together than the rest of the room combined.</p><p>Mind you, ‘the rest of the room’ included Pyrrha, which <em> had </em>to be affecting the grading curve, but still.</p><p>Dad sat down with a long, calming sigh.</p><p>“Everyone take your time settling back in,” he told them all. Blake felt her shoulders relax a bit; having him around with his steadiness and deep, soothing voice made...all this...a lot easier. Hopefully it would help bolster Pyrrha, too. “There’s no hurry.”</p><p>“We can always stop and continue this some other time,” added Mom, with a concerned look at Pyrrha. “Sometimes we take a break, realize we’re more tired than we thought…”</p><p>Pyrrha shook her head. “I would prefer to continue,” she said. “But I realize you <em> have </em>all been given...a lot. To process.”</p><p>Emerald snorted. It actually made Pyrrha’s lips twitch slightly.</p><p>“It’s kind of a lot to take in,” Emerald translated. “I think what she’s saying is that if you guys need a break, we can wait until tomorrow.”</p><p>Dad rumbled warningly. “I <em> think </em>Miss Nikos can speak for herself.”</p><p>“Thank you, Emerald,” said Pyrrha, quiet but pointed. Dad’s eyebrows raised, but he inclined his head to Pyrrha in acknowledgement and then to Emerald in apology. Neither of them looked offended by his interruption.</p><p>“If you’re still willing to tell us your story,” Mom said, leaning forward and putting a hand on Pyrrha’s chair, not touching her arm but offering support all the same, “then we’re here to listen.”</p><p>Ilia nodded in silent agreement. Sun dropped cross-legged onto a mat. His eyes were serious, and his careless cheer obviously forced to someone who knew him; but he flashed that trademark smile in Pyrrha’s direction and toasted the trio with his abomination of a sandwich.</p><p>“We’ve got nothing better to do,” he said. “Besides, if <em> you </em> stop talking we’re gonna have to talk to <em> each other, </em> right, Mr. Belladonna?”</p><p>Dad closed his eyes and started visibly counting backward from ten.</p><p>“Hey,” mused Sun. “Remember that time Ilia tried to <em> kill you all, </em> and then I saved your life?”</p><p>Ilia yanked her sake back from Mercury’s hands and took a swig directly from the bottle.</p><p>“I’m just saying,” said Sun.</p><p>Pyrrha had just picked up a sandwich and taken a bite; as the room began to settle and pay her closer attention, she swallowed and reluctantly lowered it again. “Where...were we?”</p><p>“Finish eating first, dear,” said Mom gently.</p><p>Emerald flinched. “Maybe...maybe don’t call her that?”</p><p>Blake’s heartrate spiked, Mom looked horrified, but Pyrrha just looked considering.</p><p>“I think…” she said slowly. “I think I don’t mind, actually. It’s...different...from someone who doesn’t intend it to hurt.”</p><p>“All the same,” said Mom. “There’s no reason to make this harder on you.” Pyrrha nodded faintly and took another bite of her sandwich. She seemed to be having trouble swallowing, suddenly.</p><p>Dad noticed, of course.</p><p>To pull some attention off her, he sat forward. “So,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees. “You recuperated in the care of a Huntsman friend in Patch, and then got on a boat to Menagerie. How long have you been here?”</p><p>Pyrrha was still trying to chew her sandwich; Emerald, awkwardly clutching an untouched cup of tea between her hands, glanced between them and then shifted, answering for her.</p><p>“Well,” she started. “There were a few detours…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Bag of Wind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mercury looks inside.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Fuck,” hissed Emerald. “Fuck fuck </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Pyrrha agreed with icy courtesy. “But I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying </span>
  </em>
  <span>to think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>said </span>
  </em>
  <span>you were being overly optimistic,” said Mercury.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” said Emerald.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>told you</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was stupid to assume we’d lost him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut </span>
  <em>
    <span>up,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> said Emerald.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t like she’d actually believed Tyrian Callows would lose their trail in the woods and just give up. But there was a huge difference between </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Tyrian showing up here, at the docks on Patch, on the exact day they were scheduled to ship out to Mistral.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did he find us?” she hissed at no one in particular.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many people d’you figure he tortured?” wondered Mercury, out loud for some reason because he was a dick. “Has anyone got eyes on him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emerald kicked him and jerked her head pointedly toward Pyrrha. But she seemed too focused to be bothered by it. “Emerald, you’re hiding us from him, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Emerald said. “But it’s hard to focus on one mind with all these people around. We gotta figure out a way past him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gathered that the docks and the glorified village attached to them would not usually be this busy, but with the, uh...damage in Vale proper, a lot of the passenger stuff had been shunted out to Patch for the time being. You could see clearly which docks had been there for decades and which ones had been thrown up in a hurry. Which seemed kind of stupid to Emerald when you could just focus on fixing the stuff she’d helped break, but whatever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could always try the direct way,” Mercury suggested. “Three on one’s good odds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Against </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tyrian?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Emerald rolled her eyes. “Nice idea, idiot. He’s seen you and I spar, and, uh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get it,” Pyrrha said acidly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” protested Emerald. “I just meant you’ve been using the same fighting style in broadcast competitions since you were like, twelve. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> knows how you fight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pyrrha plainly did not believe her, but they had bigger problems right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He still there?” asked Mercury, craning his neck as if he was trying to look </span>
  <em>
    <span>through </span>
  </em>
  <span>the stack of crates they were huddled behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” said Pyrrha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” said Pyrrha, with no change in inflection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silently wondering what gods were responsible for the fact that </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>was apparently the de facto leader of this fucked-up team, and swearing vengeance against them if she ever figured it out, Emerald took a deep breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” she said, talking to herself as much as them. “We all kind of freaked out a little because of the assassin, which is</span>
  <em>
    <span> fair,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but we’re probably still fine. If I can keep him in my sight, all I need to do is stop him from seeing us. We get on the boat—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ship,” Mercury corrected helpfully. “Pyrrha, you still see him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We get on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking boat,</span>
  </em>
  <span> we get below decks, we stay there until we’re away from shore, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds reasonable,” Pyrrha said. “So—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is he?” muttered Mercury. Unable to stand it any more, he sat up sharply and stuck his head around the side of the crates, and Emerald reacted just a split second too slow.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Nice view,” said Emerald. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mercury glared at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you think this a nice view, Pyrrha?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s lovely,” said Pyrrha, voice completely flat. She didn’t look up from the shopping bags she was rooting through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you think this is a great view of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kingdom of fucking Vacuo, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Merc—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>said </span>
  </em>
  <span>I was sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well!” said Pyrrha, sitting up and flashing a wide, photoshoot-ready smile. “That’s all fine then!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, if you’re gonna be a bitch, at least do it about the—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to go down the road of all the things I could be bitter about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s nice,” mused Emerald, picking a badly-faded pamphlet off the nightstand. “They left us a list of tourist destinations to visit during our </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay in Vacuo!”</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mercury—!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It took less than a second for Emerald to realize she didn’t have time to grab him or explain why what he was doing was a bad idea. It took a fraction of that for her to frantically shift her focus back to Tyrian, and about the length of a heartbeat to find his cold, slippery mind in the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Too late.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just </span>
  </em>
  <span>as Emerald folded her Semblance around Tyrian’s mind, she felt his attention spike.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mercury had stuck his head out from behind their stack of crates. Tyrian had seen him. And then, because Emerald had committed too fast, reacted on reflex, Tyrian watched as the boy he was looking for vanished into thin air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He—</span>
  <em>
    <span>move!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> snapped Emerald, trying to scramble to her feet. Pyrrha held her down, and nearly got punched for her trouble. “Get </span>
  <em>
    <span>off </span>
  </em>
  <span>me, we need to—</span>
  <em>
    <span>run!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” said Merc, nervous. “Where the hell did he go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He knows that we know that he knows where we are!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Mercury frowned, counting silently on his fingers as he tried to parse that one out. Pyrrha didn’t bother. The new sword sprang into one hand; rather than get out around or over the crates, she set her jaw, took a deep breath, and used a shockwave of condensed Aura to send their cover flying. Before Emerald could react she’d been grabbed by the collar and hauled through the exploding wreckage, plunging into the scattering crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are we </span>
  <em>
    <span>going?!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Emerald yelled into her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Witnesses,” said Pyrrha, voice like steel. “No corners. Cover works against us if it hides Callows as well. Clear lines of sight in every direction.” She called the black shield into place and moved back to back with Emerald. “We don’t break for shelter until we know where our enemy is located, or we offer him our unprotected backs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emerald risked an incredulous look over her shoulder. Pyrrha had gotten all that from...what, a few conversations at Tai’s place?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A figure broke from the crowd and moved toward them— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, hi,” grumbled Mercury, flicking away the point of Pyrrha’s sword and slipping into place on their flank, forming a loose triangle. “I’m here too, thanks for grabbing me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pyrrha didn’t let herself get distracted. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Find him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Emerald.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t…” Emerald swallowed, trying to block everything out—the bright sun, the noise of a busy dock, the voices. The crowd had been loud enough to begin with, before Pyrrha had started flinging crates at people. “I have to close my eyes—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>do it without closing your eyes, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Em,” snarled Mercury.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pyrrha ignored him. Lifting one arm, she placed her elbow on Emerald’s shoulder and pushed down, until Emerald was on one knee; then Pyrrha pivoted, placing herself back to back with Mercury instead, with Emerald mostly sheltered between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Witnesses wouldn’t keep Tyrian at bay. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved </span>
  </em>
  <span>witnesses. They didn’t have long before he decided how he wanted them to die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emerald closed her eyes, searching for the dark, still point she’d felt earlier…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have him,” she breathed. “Pyrrha, keep your shield up, he’s...behind me, shadows, to your left </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t look—!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well done.” Pyrrha’s voice wasn’t warm, she probably couldn’t fake that right now, but it was calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s focused on Mercury, I think.” Emerald couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>read minds,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but she could shape what someone saw. It’d be hard to do that if she didn’t have </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>idea of what they were already looking at. “We’re a bigger threat to Salem than you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pyrrha didn’t react. “Emerald,” she said, deliberately turning her head ever so slightly to the right, keeping Tyrian from realizing they knew exactly where he was. “On my mark, I want you to show him the image of us running for the shelter of those cargo containers. Do you understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pyrrha didn’t wait.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “Mark.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A hallucinatory trio of assholes bolted for the maze of cargo containers. Emerald didn’t wait to be certain Tyrian had taken the bait; he’d figure it out in seconds anyway. She just let Mercury pull her to her feet, and they hauled ass behind a ticketing booth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then through a security door. And then down a staircase and into a manhole cover and through a grate and over the edge of a pier and through some genuinely disgusting water and up an anchor chain, where Emerald’s Semblance let them get over the railing of a random ship without being arrested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good news,” announced Mercury, the moment they’d broken into a stateroom with a decent view out a porthole. “We’re on a boat. Bad news, our boat is about six boats </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One problem at a time.” Pyrrha immediately placed her scroll in the window and dropped out of sight; Emerald set up a video call with her, and boom, they could see outside without the risk of Tyrian Callows catching a glimpse of their faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mercury.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Pyrrha covered her face with her hands, breath coming fast and shallow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay, don’t panic.” It might have sounded reassuring if it wasn’t coming from Mercury. “We got here, didn’t we? Maybe we just swim. No, that’d attract attention from the whole pier...steal some uniforms?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Different companies,” said Pyrrha with a sharp shake of her head. But she looked up, shaken out of her panic by the need to make a plan. “We could...there is always the option of trying to blend in with the crowd…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spent about fifteen minutes like that, tossing suggestions back and forth and keeping a terrified eye on the deadbolted stateroom door. Emerald would feel better if Tyrian was easier to track in a crowd; but she’d never lost him for more than a minute, and right now she actually had a decent line of sight. He was staying hidden, obviously, because he was wanted for charges of ‘all the murder’ in every single kingdom and Menagerie. But he didn’t know exactly where they were, so he wasn’t hiding </span>
  <em>
    <span>from them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Their impromptu planning session was starting to take shape. Emerald figured they had about five minutes before they felt confident in it, and their ship didn’t actually leave until two hours from now; they’d shown up early because Pyrrha was anxious about missing the boat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they were onboard, all they had to do was keep their heads down and keep an eye on Tyrian to make sure he didn’t follow them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only one problem.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Y’know,” Mercury said through a full mouth as he chewed. “This thing’s pretty good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pyrrha glared at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unapologetic to the extreme, Mercury shrugged. “What?” he said, reasonably. “If we’re gonna get stranded, do you wanna get stranded somewhere the food sucks? If you’re not gonna eat yours hand it over, it wasn’t free.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>your money,</span>
  </em>
  <span> either,” Emerald pointed out. If it wasn’t for Taiyang Xiao Long, they’d be completely screwed. As opposed to, you know, only </span>
  <em>
    <span>mostly </span>
  </em>
  <span>totally screwed in </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost </span>
  </em>
  <span>every conceivable way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not stranded,” Pyrrha sighed tiredly, dropping her empty wrapper—she’d wolfed that wrap thing down </span>
  <em>
    <span>fast.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “We just...have to go the long way around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Through </span>
  <em>
    <span>all of Vacuo,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Emerald added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mercury lowered his wrap slowly and looked between the two of them. “Hey, I don’t get why you two are acting like it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emerald threw her hands in the air, almost spilling Pyrrha’s drink. “It is your fault! It’s entirely your fault! One hundred percent of this is your fault!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t even want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>bring </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pyrrha! No offense, Pyrrha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pyrrha took a long, dispassionate sip of her drink and set the paper cup aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apportioning blame right now is not productive,” she said, acid dripping from her tongue. “A fact for which you should be grateful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pyrrha thinks it’s your fault too,” Emerald translated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you find any useful information?” demanded Pyrrha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merc rolled his eyes and flopped back against the pillow. They’d grabbed a cheap motel room for a night or two on the logic that it wouldn’t take Tyrian long to somehow track them down again and regardless it was safer than sleeping on the street. It got them a microwave and access to a shower, a mattress, and a cheap safe that Emerald had taken one look at and determined was actually less secure than just shoving money under your pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mercury swung his shoes into his bed, apparently specifically to annoy Pyrrha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure did, boss. There’s a caravan heading out tomorrow from this shitty port town to </span>
  <em>
    <span>another </span>
  </em>
  <span>shitty port town on the other side of Vacuo. Figure they’d be happy to have a couple’ve Huntresses along for protection.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emerald pretended not to notice Pyrrha’s response to that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do we want to ID ourselves as Huntresses?” she wondered out loud. “Might be better not to attract attention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever.” Mercury plucked a bit of lettuce from the remains of his paper wrapping. “If we want to actually be allowed to go with them we’ll probably have to prove we’re worth it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pyrrha hummed and shook her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s very possible that we </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> she said. “Vacuo has a long history of self-sufficiency, and of respecting the boundaries and privacy of others. They’re actually quite likely to accept that we’re simply travelling south and want the safety of numbers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your call.” He wadded up the wrapping, tossed it overhand, and missed the trash. “Either way? First thing in the morning. Better get ready.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“...could duck </span>
  <em>
    <span>around </span>
  </em>
  <span>that shipping container, possibly. If we set off some kind of distraction—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, said Emerald. “Guys?”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>They were three hours into the desert by the time the sun rose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know about you, girls,” said Mercury, linking his fingers behind his head. “But I call that a clean getaway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emerald growled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on,” he protested. “I’m trying to be positive!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>positive,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> snarled Emerald, “that if </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>had kept your big head down, </span>
  <em>
    <span>we’d</span>
  </em>
  <span> be sleeping in on a boat to Mistral right now, and not </span>
  <em>
    <span>walking </span>
  </em>
  <span>across </span>
  <em>
    <span>the entire length of Vacu</span>
  </em>
  <span>o at eight in the morning!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are worse places to be,” said Pyrrha shortly, which shut them both up.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Right,” said Pyrrha, decisively. “I think we should try it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Guys,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>said Emerald again, more urgently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The floor shuddered underneath them as the passenger freighter, which had cast off and started drifting away from the dock while they were distracted, brought its engines online and began to pull out into the harbor in earnest.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the relatively long gap, we can't brain writing complicated plotty fics while the show isn't on hiatus.</p><p>Alternate chapter title: Crunchwrap Supreme From Taco Bell</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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